All That Jazz
by KHwhitelion
Summary: When Danny's ghost life interfere's with his school life, Jazz decides the best way to help is to become like her brother. Harmless....right? Not unless you count four ghosts teaming up together, led by her brother's worst enemy....
1. prologue

A devilish smile crawled across his pale, sunken face as his luminescent eyes scanned the ghostly faces glaring at him from around the dimly lit room. He knew what they were thinking: Why were they _here_? Who was it-he-who called them here together? They-all different ghosts with different talents and abilities-none of which corresponded with each other. _Well_, he mused, chuckling to himself darkly, _that's what they think_."All right." He announced, the tone in his voice raspy and sinister, "If I may have everyone's attention." 

At once four pairs of eyes narrowed. 

"It's about time," one of his 'audience members' spat, "we've been waiting for you to speak for far too long." The ghost crossed his metallic arms, which made a sharp _clink_ as they touched, his bright green pupils glinting off the metal of his body armor.

"Yes, that's right!" Another, this one with a voice like nails on a chalk board and long white hair, added, "I think it is time you told us why you brought us all here!" 

The one they were addressing lowered his brow, the smile he wore turning into a malicious smirk. "Very well." He replied. "I'll tell you." Walking closer to where the others were-flying, his usual choice in transportation, was currently an unavailable option-he raised one hand, curling it into a fist. "You're all, I assume, familiar with the ghost boy, correct?" 

Almost as soon as the words escaped his lips, a sudden uproar broke out; each ghost furiously erupting in an outburst of angry comments and complaints involving the half-ghost child; enough so that he was able to get a better idea of how they all felt, and the extent of their anger and frustration. _Good_, he thought as he watched the scene before him, _it seems I was correct in my choice_. 

BRAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANG! A loud, booming sound suddenly rang out, causing those in the room to instantly silence. All heads turned, and a young, female ghost with blue hair that stood up like fire, stepped forward, a florescent electric guitar held tightly with one hand. There was a look of irritation on her pale-nearly white face- her green eyes blazing like fire. "Hey dipstick." She uttered, her tone hard and matter-of-fact, "You gonna get to the point or not?"

He nodded, ignoring the left over ringing in his ears. "Of course. Thank you for reminding me. Well now," he started again, "Let's try this once more-now that you've had the chance to express your feelings." He made as if to take a deep breath-then decided against it. "The reason I've called you together, is because I want to _kill_ Danny Fenton." 

Instead of the applause he was expecting, the ghosts he was facing gave almost no response at all, save for a groan coming from the one dressed in metal. "Like we haven't heard _that_ before."

"Oh?"

The metallic one sighed, "You do realize that I and a few others have been hired by various people before, right? And each time, some extravagant plan was launched to catch or destroy the ghost kid, _and_ each time that plan failed? What makes _you_ think anything you can come up with will be different? And more importantly, _succeed_?"

"That's right." Another ghost, this one also a female who hadn't spoken until now, put in, "Every time, that boy finds some way to thwart their-and _our_ plans."

He actually laughed at this comment, throwing his head back and cackling. "I see. I see. But you can't honestly think I'm _that_ much of an amateur."

"Considering we don't even know who you are, how can we make that judgment?"

"I suppose that's true. However, _unlike_ you previous associates, I know _exactly_ how to deal with the boy." He paused, licking his lips in pleasure. "We're going straight to the source-I want to eliminate Danny Fenton's _human_ half."


	2. grades conference

Jazz yawned, lazily flipping through the pages of her history text book. Though her homework was long completed with, she thought she'd brush up on subjects learned earlier in the year. After all, she kept telling herself, one can never be too prepared for a pop-quiz- and as a nearing graduate of Casper High School, she found them happening quite frequently. Of course, that wasn't the only reason she was reading. Truth be told, Jazz actually enjoyed history class: as she put it, it was the one class where she could read about people who in their everyday lives experienced some strange, unexplained phenomenon….or at least something out of the ordinary. It gave her relief to know that once upon a time there were folks that lived a life of extreme obscurity, but were able to somehow cope with it all. As her turquoise eyes scanned through the text, she started to feel just a bit better about _her_ current way of living.

"_Yeah_," she scoffed, turning the page, "but I doubt any of them had to deal with _ghosts_ on a regular basis."

"DANIEL FENTON!!!!! GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!!!!!!"

Jazz jumped, unprepared for the sudden verbal explosion from downstairs. "Uh-oh." She breathed, recognizing the voice to be her mother's, "This can't be good."

Slamming her book shut, Jazz sprang to her feet, and raced down the stairs. Following the sound of voices, not only her mother's now but her father's as well, Jazz hurried her way to the kitchen, where, as she expected, her parents were standing around the table, looming over a scrawny boy of fourteen with messy black hair-her brother Danny, who was seated at the table, his shoulders hunched. Jazz rolled her eyes, a pang of sympathy hitting her hard as she relayed the scene. The kitchen. The table. The angry parents standing over the boy. A look of aggravation on his face. And, she noted, loose papers spread out in front of him-all with the letters C,D and at least one or two Fs. A grades conference. _Not again_, she thought, rushing over to them.

"Dad! Mom! Danny!" She cried, deciding to play dumb for the moment. "What's, er, going on?"

"Isn't that obvious dear?" Her mother, Maddie Fenton, replied, brow furrowing.

_Yes_. Jazz thought, but remained silent. She knew it was best to leave comments like that to herself. At least for the time being, anyway. Maddie, however, took advantage of her daughter's fail in reply.

"Your brother has received one-too-many Cs and Ds, and-"

"Don't forget Fs!" , her father, Jack, suddenly cut in.

Maddie nodded, "Thank you Jack. And _F_s. I'm sure you understand, Jazz, that this cannot continue. If Danny isn't going to take his education seriously, he'll have to receive some consequence for it."

"Hold on!" Jazz blurted out, startling her mother, "It's not Danny's fault! He-"

She stopped, casting a quick glance at her brother. He shook his head subtly, but enough that she realized what he was trying to say. '_Don't even think about it, Jazz_,' was the message he got across to her. 'I wasn't, don't worry,' she mouthed back. Maddie gave her a funny look.

"Honey?" She asked, raising an eyebrow. Jazz froze. "What are you doing?"

"U-uh…." Jazz looked at Danny nervously, thinking frantically. What could she say? "W-what I mean is….it's not Danny's fault….because…." Ah ha. An idea. "…..because of all the _community work_ he's been doing recently."

"Community work?" Both parents –and Danny-chorused together, clearly confused. Jazz sighed to herself, forcing a smile. So far, so good.

"Y-yes….you see, uh, Mr. Lancer and the other teachers know that Danny isn't doing well at school, so….um, they've already taken the liberty of giving him some-eh-afterschool work to do. Until his grades improve."

"Wait what?!" Danny began, having not yet caught on to what she was doing. 

She threw him a pleading gaze, silently begging him to go along with her. _Come on Danny...don't give me away…._

He blinked, blue eyes widening in realization as he met his sister's eyes. "Right. Community work. Of course!" He laughed nervously, inching his chair away from his parents. "I've been so busy with afterschool activities that I completely forgot to stu-I mean….time just escaped me."

"Oh…." Maddie began, "well…."

"Wait just a minute young man!" Jack Fenton suddenly bellowed, clamping a hand on the back of Danny's chair, keeping him from moving any farther away, "How do we know what Jazz is saying is true?"

"Huh?!" Both kids said in unison, sweat beginning to form on their foreheads. 

Jazz stepped forward, gritting her teeth. 

"What reason would you have _not_ to trust us, dad?" She questioned in defense, moving closer to her brother. 

Jack didn't say anything right away; he just narrowed his eyes and brought a hand to his chin. "That is an excellent point, Jasmine. But-"

'_But_?'

"-but why didn't you or Danny tell us you were doing these afterschool things? He gasped, hands curling into fists, "Could it be that _ghosts_ were controlling you this whole time?!" He made to run for the weapons' vault, however, Maddie dashed ahead, blocking his way.

"Now Jack, we have no proof ghosts are responsible for this, right?"

Before Jack had a chance to respond, Danny stood up. "T-that's right. Like I said before, time just escaped me. I-" He hung his head. "I forgot to tell you, because I've been so busy. Sorry."

"Aw sweetie…." Maddie cooed, coming over to give her son a hug.

_Wow_, Jazz observed, _that was an incredibly fast change in moods_. 

Still feeling slightly under pressure, the girl piped up, "So does that mean Danny's off the hook?"

Her mother frowned again. Another fast change in mood. "No." she stated sternly, letting Danny go, "but I'll tell you what. " she added, turning to the boy, "Danny, if you can promise me you'll continue to do your best, and keep up with school, your father and I will see what we can do to lessen your amount of community hours, okay?"

"But-but-but…." 

Jazz, who at this point was rather close to her brother, jabbed hi m-hard-in the ribcage with her elbow. He winced, and their mother turned, but Jazz just smiled, clasping a hand over Danny's mouth. "That's great mom!" she chimed, glaring at the now squirming Danny, "This really means a lot to us-him. Thanks a lot."


	3. a harmless lie?

"'_Thanks a lot_,'" Danny mimicked furiously, slamming his hands against the table, "Man! Jazz what were you thinking!?"

Jazz scoffed. "I was _thinking_ that you didn't want mom or dad knowing your secret, and that I'd better say something to cover you up!"

"Oh yeah? Well maybe if you hadn't interfered during the _conference_, you wouldn't have _had_ to lie to them like that!"

"Danny! Be serious! Even if I hadn't had been there, mom and dad would have eventually asked why you were doing so poorly at school!"

"And your point is….?"

Jazz crossed her arms, leaning back in her chair. Having convinced their parents of why Danny's grades were low, both Maddie and Jack had left the kitchen-most likely to do something ghost related-which left Jazz and her brother alone. Now, in the confidence of each other, they were free to talk.

"Danny, please. I'm not saying you couldn't have handled the situation on your own, but as your big sister and one of the only ones who knows you're half-ghost-"

"SHHHH!!!!! Keep it down!"

"Sorry. As one of the only ones you feel you can _confide_ in, I wanted to do what I could to help you hide your-"

Danny put a finger to his lips.

"-you know what I mean. But hey! Look on the bright side! Now you've been given some time to bring your grades up, right?"

Danny rolled his eyes, slumping into his chair. "Oh riiiiiiiight. Because I've obviously got the time to study now, even though I'm still oh I don't know…._fighting ghosts_!!" 

Jazz put up her hands in truce, "Okay okay. I know. But do you think maybe you could cut down on the ghost busting, even if it's just once in a while?"

Danny shook his head. "It's not that simple, Jazz. There's no telling what could happen if I just stopped fighting. The ghosts'd probably run wild or something. And it's not like there's anyone else to fill in for me while I'm out of action, right?"

"Well, actually…."

"What?"

Jazz looked at him, a strange glimmer in her aqua colored pupils. "If need be, I could always be a substitute….just if, you know, if things get out of hand."

Danny actually looked alarmed now, and his eyes widened. "No. No no no no."   
He uttered quickly, dismissing the idea, "remember what happened the _last_ time you tried to help?"

His sister thought for a moment, her brows pressing into her forehead. "Yeah….Well, it was just a thought."

"Mm." Danny nodded, "a nice thought. But let's face it, Jazz. There isn't anyone else out there capable of handling all the ghosts." He paused. "Well, there is, but they're not exactly 'nice guys.'" He smiled as he said this, though not one of sincerity, and rose, slowly, to his feet.

"Where are you going?" Jazz asked, tilting her head.

Danny shrugged, pulling his cell phone from his pocket, "Oh, nowhere. 'Cept the movies. I made plans with Tucker and Sam last week, remember?"

"Oh. Oh that's right. You told me."

"Right. I said I'd meet them around 2:30, and-oh look at that!" He joked, checking the clock on his phone, "it's 2:30. Gotta go!" He turned to leave the kitchen, grabbing his bag from the counter. However, before he made his exit, 

Danny turned back around, "don't worry about me, Jazz. I'll handle this." He then smiled, then bolted from the room. Jazz watched him go, a muddled look on her face. _Will you, little brother_? She thought, eyes fixated on the spot he'd just been, _I don't know…._


	4. look on the bright side

"Community work?" Tucker asked, as he, Danny and Sam headed towards the cinema, "Who came up with that?"

Danny scowled, folding his arms across his chest. "Jazz. And it wouldn't have been so bad, really: I mean I could always use it as an excuse for when I'm battling ghosts.

"Except you already did," Sam cut in, "and now your parents are setting a conference up with your teachers to give you more study time-"

"Which as we know, will be a problem because that isn't the reason you're failing in school." Tucker added, holding up a finger in thought. 

Danny nodded, "Exactly." Here, his sour face changed to one resembling slight panic. "If my parents contact the school, and they find out I'm not doing any extra work, I'm gonna be in even deeper trouble than before." His shoulders slumped in conclusion, and his stride took on the form of a stomp. 

"Danny-" Sam tried, reaching out to him. He, however, shrugged her off.

"Save it, Sam," he muttered coldly, quickening his pace, "Nothing you two can do is going to help in anyway, so I'd appreciate it if you'd refrain from giving me any sympathy."

"Oh Danny," Tucker said, "We're not giving you any-"

"That's it!" Sam cried suddenly, grabbing the boys by their shoulders. They jumped, each making a sound somewhere between a squeak and a yelp.

"_What's it_?" Tucker inquired, a mixture of shock and confusion in his voice. 

The Goth girl smiled mischievously, her eyes brightening. "While Danny's busy studying, you and I can use his dad's gear and take care of the ghosts!"

"Not you, too!" Danny said, starting to become agitated, "Jazz suggested the same thing earlier! What part of 'it's too dangerous' don't you understand?! Plus, if I'm home doing catch-up work, then my parents will know that I don't have any afterschool activities!" 

"Or…." Sam tried again, cautiously approaching her friend "….or they'll think that you've finished it all."

"Yeah maybe," Danny admitted, slowly calming himself, "but that'd require me to improve my grades first."

"Now _that's_ the spirit," Tucker enthused, slapping the ghost-boy on the back, "Of course, you can worry about all this _after_ we see the movie."

Sam raised an eyebrow, "and what makes you say _that_, Tucker?" she asked, placing a hand on her left hip.

Tucker cocked his head and grinned. "Because," he replied, pointing to his right, "the cinema is right over there. And it would be a pain to talk education during a film that has absolutely nothing to do with benefiting our young minds for future use."

As rotten a mood as Danny was in, he had to laugh at this comment. "All too true, Tuck." He agreed, starting to feel a bit better, as the three turned to their right, and headed into the theatre.


	5. sympathy

Click. Click. _Click_. Jazz sighed, each tap of the mouse with her finger changing the image of the ghost on her laptop. Danny had said he didn't want her help battling them, however, he never said anything about not being able to _research_ them-which was precisely what she was doing at the moment.

"Let's see," she said to herself, as she browsed through each ghost's personal file, "which of these guys appear most often around here." Fiddling around with the program, her search led to three main results: The first, being rather obvious, was a man by the name of Vlad Masters, her father's former best friend and the only other half-ghost besides her brother. _Well of course_ he'd _be first on the list_, she thought, turning her attention to the other two. 

One was a ghost called Skulker, who wore a suit of complete armor, and claimed to be the best bounty hunter in the Ghost Zone. At one point, before she knew anything about him, Jazz had dubbed the hunter 'ghost X' a name that now made her cringe in embarrassment every time she heard it. The other ghost she had also seen before. _He_ called himself 'The Box Ghost' and as his name suggested, had power over any sort of box imaginable. He wasn't a very intimidating ghost, but he always kept popping up somewhere. 

"Menacing or not," she thought aloud, closing her laptop, "he still gives poor Danny a run for his money. Good thing these ghosts don't usually appear at the same time." Putting the machine aside, she rose from the seat she had been sitting in, raising her arms over her head to stretch her cramped joints. It didn't matter _what_ she was looking up-if too much time was spent on the computer, eventually even the most tech-geeks would find their arms and fingers cramping up. Still, she smiled-suddenly wondering whether or not ghosts had to deal with this kind of thing. Heck, if they could walk through walls, surely they could avoid stiff muscles from too much computer use. Then again, not being a ghost herself, she really had no idea. _Great, with all this ghost talk, I'm beginning to sound like my dad_. She thought in frustration, dropping her arms.

Almost as soon as she did, however, then a noise similar to a laser erupted from the next room, followed by a triumphant shout. "….and speaking of _dad_…." She muttered through gritted teeth, shaking her head in shame.

"Eureka!" The loud, victorious battle cry that could only belong to her father, boomed, "I got 'im!"

Jazz froze, putting her disgrace on hold. Got _who_, exactly? Surely not Danny. He was far too quick for the man, not to mention currently being at the movies. _Still_, she thought, picking up her laptop, _with all the stress he's been going through lately, even dad might be able to ca-_ suddenly anxious, Jazz bolted from the room, headed for the direction of Jack Fenton's voice.

It wasn't hard to find him-the weapon currently in Jack Fenton's possession left a trail of scorch marks along the walls, floors and ceiling of the hallway. Making a mental note to warn her mother of the mess later, Jazz proceeded through the wreck until she located a large man with graying hair and an orange jumpsuit; gun in one hand and ghost-held captive by a 'ghost-proof' net-in the other. Her father.

"Dad!" Jazz cried, realizing the struggling green creature in his hand was not, thankfully, her brother, "_what_ are you _doing_?!" It was a rhetorical question, she knew: The fact was, her father was obsessed with fighting ghosts. However, once in a very slim while, he made bizarre extensions on his 'hobby'.

In the meantime, Jack turned, grinning at his now-agitated daughter, "What does it look like I'm doing, Jasmine?" He beamed, showing her the ghostly creature, "I'm fighting ghosts!"

Ah. So this _wasn't_ anything out of the ordinary. She should have guessed. "I….see." She replied carefully, masking the relief she felt by lowering her brow. "Aaaaand…._what_, exactly, did this ghost do to you that made you want to trap it?"

Her father laughed. "What kind of a question is that? That thing is a _ghost_, Jasmine," he said, pointing to it, "I don't need a reason to trap it!"

_Uh-huh_, Jazz thought shaking her head. "And you realize you destroyed that hallway back there in the process?"

Jack blinked. "I did?" 

_Typical_, she thought in disgust, sighing. "You know what, dad? Never mind." Leaving her father in a state of oblivious shock, the girl turned on her heel and disappeared into the hallway.


	6. falling into place

He snarled, scuffing his boots against the murky surface beneath his feet. He still had no idea of said location's whereabouts, as the Ghost Zone _he_ was familiar with looked distinctly different-and by different, he meant in utter ruin. No, _this _Ghost Zone was much different, and much more fitting for the unfolding of his diabolical plan. Ha. Now _that _almost made him _laugh_. 'Diabolical plan.' The phrase made him sound like a child in a game of Cops and Robbers. It was rather sad, actually, for as foolish as it may have sounded, he had indeed conducted a 'Diabolical plan.' One that, if he played his cards right, would give him ultimate satisfaction….and ultimate _revenge_.

Now in a much better mood than before, he proceeded to his destination; a 'meeting hall' of sorts that he had personally arranged for such an occasion as this. _Easier to keep track of everyone that way_, he thought, lowering his brow if ever so slightly. True, he had recruited ghosts whom he felt possessed abilities that would blend nicely together, if instructed to the right way. However, that aside, he didn't think very highly of them. The metallic one complained too much, and kept giving him strange untrusting looks, the girl with the guitar was far too obnoxious for her own good, the one with long white hair….well, there were _many _things wrong with him, and the other girl? He scoffed. If she weren't a ghost he could have sworn she was _on _something; _no one _acts _that _happy _all _the time. It just wasn't natural. Then again-there wasn't anything natural about being a ghost, now was there?

This time, he _did _laugh-a low, raspy cackle, that shook his translucent sides with a force of pleasure. Things were certainly becoming…._interesting_…there was no doubt about _that_.

Caught up in the moment, he nearly missed the entrance to the room, walking instead into the murky-colored wall beside it. It wasn't until his nose was only inches away from it that he became fully aware of what he was about to do. Not wishing to look like a fool, he simply willed himself transparent, passing through the wall as if it were nothing more than water, and into the meeting hall on the other side.

The ghosts that had already arrived-which were all four-seemed to be preoccupied in arguing over something or other, though he knew not what. It rather annoyed him actually, though he _was _grateful no one had seen him miss the door. It was hard enough to keep them all in a somewhat stable level of control; if they witnessed any such moment of weakness, he'd be risking what faith they had in him as a leader. Which he was sure couldn't have been much. Walking briskly over to the front of the room, he stood-impatiently-and waited for the ghosts to settle down. As his crimson eyes fell on each of them, with frustration, he had to remind himself that without these particular four at his side, he'd never be able to follow through with his plan. Interesting? No, there was another word for this current situation…._exasperating_.

As he waited, the clock that was his patience slowly ticked away, and he grew more and more aggravated. Finally, he couldn't take it anymore.

"That's _enough!" _He roared, a surge of energy expelling from his body, "Ember, Technus, Skulker, Spectra! It's been over five minutes, and not a single one of you has had the nerve to acknowledge my even standing here! I demand you all shut up and _sit _down!" He angrily jestered to the table placed in the middle of the room, hoping that _someone_ would take the liberty and listen to him. However, their eyes seemed transfixed, and their mouths hung open.

"How…." The metallic one, Skulker, shot, taken aback, "How do you know our names?"

He grimaced, "Well perhaps if you all paid more _attention_to what I have to say," he snapped, displaying his gleaming white teeth, "you'd find that out, now wouldn't you?"

"Y-yes sir." Skulker replied meekly, seemingly shaken. "I-I-I'm sorry." He took a step away, green eyes widening, as if he could suddenly sense something. Something powerful. The others seemed to get the same feeling for they were slowly inching away from him and towards the table. So they were finally beginning to understand just _who_ it was they were dealing with. He grinned, losing his previous irritation. _Perfect_, he thought, looking at them all, _it seems everything is starting to fall into place._


	7. life like a movie

_"Take that, evil fiend!" _

_"Never!__ You shall never defeat me!! __For I am all powerful!"_

"Uh….Tucker?" Danny asked, turning to the next seat to face his friend, "Remind me again what movie this is?"

Tucker laughed quietly, never tearing his eyes from the large screen in front, " 'Attack of the Zombie-ghost king part II.' Why?"

An obnoxious 'shhhhhh' sounded from the back of the theatre.

"No reason. It just reminds me of what my_life_ is like on a regular basis-except a lot lamer." Danny replied hotly, dropping his voice in response to the 'shhhh-ing.'

"Danny, chill out, man. We came here to _relax_. Not to compare some bizarrely twisted flick with your daily routine of ghost fighting."

"I know, but-"

"Could you guys keep it down?" Sam interrupted, glaring at the two boys, "I'm trying to watch the movie, here!"

Another 'shhhh' came from behind, causing the three friends to look over their shoulders in its direction.

"Besides," the goth girl continued, jerking her thumb behind her, "you're distracting other people as well. Can't whatever it is you guys have to say wait until the movie is _over_?"

Tucker looked as though he was going to protest, but Danny merely sighed, "Yeah. Sorry Sam." He said simply as he once again focused his attention to the large screen before them.


	8. Jazz's idea

Jazz's nose wrinkled in disgust as she trudged along the hallway her father had so courteously destroyed. She shook her head, admiring the deep char marks imbedded in the wooded walls. _Mom's going to _kill _him_, she thought, reaching out to touch the darkened area of the wall….

"What the-!?" She suddenly shrieked, falling forward, the pressure from her hand causing the scorched wood to cave in, "T-the wall just-" Quickly, she forced herself into a lunge position, Jazz sprang back, narrowly missing an encore collapse of timber from the wall.

"Wow. That was close." She breathed, marveling at her own reflexes. She had to admit, even though she wasn't particularly in the mood, that she had dodged being crushed by burnt wood with surprising ease. Which only convinced her further that she really _could _be of some help to her brother, if she knew how to in the right way.

"But how the heck do I do _that_?" she uttered, feeling frustrated again as she continued her walk down the hallway. For what could she really do? Well, for one thing, Danny certainly didn't want her help-in _anything_-so unless she received his permission, she could only remain a bystander. However, even if he _did_ choose to accept her assistance, Jazz didn't have the faintest clue how she could help. She certainly didn't want to repeat the same incident as _last _time, but every weapon her family seemed to posses was either incredibly hard to control, or had some horrible glitch to it that prevented it from working properly.

A noise like a growl emitted from her throat, and her teeth momentarily clenched in aggravation. Danny was _her _younger brother, so it was _her _duty to protect him. However, the fact that said brother was half-ghost, made protecting him all the more difficult.

"Argh!" She cried abruptly, throwing her hands in the air, "There's got to be _some way _I can help!" _Yeah right, Jazz_, the voice that was her conscience piped up, _you've been through this _before._ He didn't want your help back then and he's certainly not going to want it now. After all, all you did _last _time was __get__ in the way. _

"….Besides" she uttered, breaking from her train of thought, "Nothing mom and dad have invented can compare with Danny's ghost powers." She laughed, "Heh, the only way I'd be any help to Danny would be if I were a ghost, too!" Wait a minute. If _she _were a ghost? _No, absolutely not!_ Her mind screamed, trying to talk some sense into herself, _don't even _think _about it_. Right. Of course. _Her _being a ghost? The idea was absurd. What was she thinking?

"Great," she voiced again, "just great. Now _I'm _going crazy, too." She shook her head for the second time as she continued walking. Her life was already more abnormal than any other girl her age, with the exception of possibly Sam-and she was still a few years younger than her. There was no need, as far as she was concerned, to increase the complications in her life, were there?

"AAAAAAAAAAGH!!!!!!"

Jazz jumped, startled and shaken from her zoned state by a harsh screech coming from the room she had just left. _Now what?_ She moaned, instantly recognizing the voice to be her father's. Turning swiftly around, Jazz backtracked down the hall, picking up speed to see what in the world would make her father shriek like that. It was a crazy idea, and she was crazy for even suggesting it to herself, she reflected as she ran, besides, Danny would _never_ approve of it. _But still_...

Something made her smirk then. A slow, mischevious smirk that crawled across her face, and a strange feeling came over her…..

….Maybe, he wouldn't _have _to.


	9. I AM THE BOX GHOST!

"Well, _that _was the lamest movie I've ever seen," Sam groaned, crossing her arms as she, Danny and Tucker exited the theatre, "I can't believe something like that is even _allowed_ to be shown at the movies."

"Now Sam," Tucker interjected, shaking a knowing finger at the goth girl, "just because a movie isn't given high standards by the average viewer, doesn't mean it shouldn't be shown in theatres." He laughed, placing his hands proudly on his sides. "And _that's _what counts."

Sam growled, punching her friend in the shoulder. "_Must _you always talk like some technical genius?"

Wincing a little, Tucker said sincerely, "Hey, you can't change what you are."

"Tell me about it."

Argument forgotten, both turned, surprised at Danny's sudden voiced opinion.

"Beg your pardon?" Tucker asked, raising an eyebrow teasingly.

Danny frowned, throwing him a glance. "I said….oh never mind." He sighed then, slouching his shoulders. Sam, dropping her previously agitated look, turned to her friend.

"Danny, are you sure you're all right?" She asked, lowering her voice. Saying nothing, but changing his expression to one of remorse, the boy shrugged.

"I……..I don't know."

"You don't know?" Tucker echoed, massaging his still aching shoulder. Danny shook his head.

"Yeah…..I mean….well…."

"You're still thinking about what Jazz said, aren't you?" Sam guessed, lowering her eyebrows.

"Hehe," he chuckled, a bit sadly, "It was that obvious, huh?"

She nodded. "Yep."

For a moment, Danny closed his eyes, exhaling a long exasperated breath. "It's just…." He paused, "I know the lie Jazz told my parents was for my own benefit, but the fact is, I feel like I'm in even more trouble than before. If my parents find out I'm not really doing any community work, they're gonna start asking questions and chances are neither Jazz or I will be able to come up with a good excuse to cover up me being half-ghost." His eyes opened then, and he brought a hand up to his forehead. "Man, I just don't know what to-"

Suddenly, he gasped, a wispy blue-tinted puff of air emitted from his mouth. His ghost-sense. Instantly bolting upright, Danny whirled around, searching for who or what could have made his ghost-sense go off. "Hey guys," he called over his shoulder "Did you see anythi-"

"I AM THE BOX GHOST!!!! BEWARE MY CUBIC WRATH OF DOOOOOOOM!!!!!!!!"

Danny flinched, furrowing his brow. "Oh great." He groaned, rotating to face the Box Ghost, "Not _you_."

"WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?!" The Box ghost cried, clearly oblivious to the situation around him.

"_Look_, I don't have time to deal with you right now, so if you just go back into whatever crate you came out of, I'll _gladly_ pummel you later when I have time!"

The Box ghost stared at Danny for a minute or so, looked thoughtful, then threw his gloved-hands in the air, seeming upset. "I AM THE _BOX _GHOST!!!! NOT THE _CRATE _GHOST!!!! HOW DARE YOU CONFUSE MY BOX WEILDING ABILITIES OF DESTRUCTION!!!!! JUST FOR THAT, YOU WILL NEVER ESCAPE ME!!!!!!!!" he paused, waited for a reaction from the three teenagers, then added, "BEWARE!"

A sound between a sigh and a snarl echoed in Danny's throat, and his brow furrowed even further. "Fine then. " He snapped, slamming a fist into his palm, "Looks like I don't have a choice. " He cast a glance towards his two friends, still with an angry expression, before saying, "this'll only take a second."

He then turned back to the Box Ghost, his eyes glowing a dangerous green. "I'm going ghost!" He shouted, activating the mental trigger that transformed his body into a teenage phantom. Taking less than a second, Danny now sported a black and white uniform, and white gloves and boots, with a logo on his chest that stood for 'Danny Phantom.' His hair was now an eerie white color, and his eyes a stable glowing green. He looked up at the Box ghost, fist still in hand, ready to charge, but before he had the chance, the irritating poltergeist took off, shrieking another "Beware!" as he flew. Danny hesitated about following, but it was clear the speed the Box ghost was traveling at was far too slow for him to actually _want _to escape right away. _Weird,_ Danny thought, giving his friends an 'I'll be back' look, before flying after the Box ghost.

"Come back here, you!" Danny shrieked over the wind infiltrating his ears, furiously trying to keep up with the speeding Box ghost. He clenched his teeth, hands, in front of him like some old super hero, beginning to heat with the ecto-energy he was now focusing into each one.

The Box ghost, never turning around, screamed, equally as loud, "THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT TAKE ORDERS FROM ANYONE!!!!! FOR I AM THE MASTER OF ALL OBJECTS SQUARE!"

"Yeah, I _know _that!!" The ghost-boy shot back, intensifying the amount of energy in his hands, "Now _get b_ack here, so I can put you back where you be-_OOF_!!"

A loud squeal followed by a sharp _CLANG _sounded as the next thing Danny knew, he had crashed into a large metallic object. A large _painful _metallic object.

"Ow!!" He cried, springing back, "What the-where did-"

"Hello, _whelp_."

Danny froze. He knew _that _voice. "Skulker?" He questioned, massaging his stinging face, "what are you….wait…." he whirled around to face the Box ghost, something clicking in his mind. "So _this _is what you were leading me into, huh?"

The Box ghost, to Danny's surprise, shook his stout head. "NO! THAT IS NOT TRUE! I DO NOT HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT HE IS DOING HERE?!" Then, floating closer towards the bounty hunter, asked, "No seriously, what are you doing here?"

Choosing to ignore his question, Skulker turned to face the now-confused Danny. "It's true, ghost-child. That foolish Box-ghost-"

"BEWARE!"

"-Shut up. As I was saying, he had no idea you were going to run into me. No, my reason for being here is a little more…." He threw a glance at the box-ghost, who wore no particular expression, Skulker's words from before not fazing him in the least, "…._professional_."

"Professional, huh?" Danny repeated, clearly not amused, "What could be so professional that you had to come out here, with your useless assistant and kick my butt on a day where I have way too much to do?"

Skulker scowled, "I told you he didn't know I was going to be here!! But," he added, mood suddenly becoming much more sinister, "as for what reasons _I_ am here, I'm afraid I'm not allowed to tell you."

"'Not _allow__ed_? What, did Vlad Plasmius hire you again?"

Skulker merely laughed, an eerie laugh that made Danny's skin crawl. "No. No. Don't be ridiculous. I learned my lesson the _last _time I worked for him."

Rrgh. _Not _the answer Danny was hoping for. "Huh. Really now? Well, if _that's_ the case, who _are _you working for? Or do I have to _make _you tell me?"

The bounty hunter ghost's eyes narrowed, and a treacherous grin crossed his metallic face. "Bring it on, whelp."


	10. professional business

If someone had told Danny he'd be spending his afternoon on a wild goose chase after a useless poltergeist, and thrown into battle with the Ghost Zone's greatest bounty hunter, he probably would have believed them. However, if he'd also been told how _well _said bounty hunter was going to put up a fight, he'd have written them off and sent them away to the asylum for mental care. For that was _exactly _what was going on.

"ARHG!" Danny shrieked, once again thrown back by a more-than-usual powerful blow by one of Skulker's metallic arms, "What's the deal?!"

"'What's the deal?' Skulker repeated, raising a sleek dark eyebrow, "I thought you were going to….hm….how'd you put it…._make me tell you who I work for_?"

"I _was,_" the ghost-boy retorted, wiping the blood that had fallen from his lip, "I just wasn't expecting you to _fight back_ so hard!" He growled, striking out at his foe-the Box ghost having taken off to bother someone else. Skulker laughed once more, a hint of mock-pity in his tone. "Even _I _can be serious when is needed, ghost-child."

"_Really_." Danny shot back, picking up on Skulker's mockery and growing angrier than he already was, "So you're telling me all those _other _times we've faced each other you _weren't _being serious?"

_That _remark _did _seemed to push the ghost-hunter's buttons, and an expression of bitterness passed over his face. However, to Danny's shock, Skulker pushed whatever momentary hatred he'd been feeling aside, choosing instead to flash a malicious grin at him, holding up his right arm. "For the sake of my assignment, I'm going to _ignore _that comment, whelp." He uttered coldly, arm beginning to morph.

"Hmph. Ignoring my insults. You a_re_ being serious." Danny cracked, once again focusing energy into his hands. "I'd be impressed, if I weren't so ticked off."

Willing his legs into a ghostly tail, the boy charged towards the bounty hunter, his gloved hands now glowing with green ecto-energy. "Look, I _hate _to end this so soon," he stated as he flew, "but _unlike _you, I actually have better things to do!" Thrusting his hands together, Danny began to focus, until a visible, green translucent ball of energy formed between his palms. _Take this_, he thought as he neared the metallic ghost-bits of his arm _still_ rearranging itself into something. With little effort and an amount of force, he pushed his arms out in front, releasing the energy ball into a tremendous ecto-blast….

….and that was he felt a stabbing pain in his left side.

"AAAGGH!!!!" Danny shrieked, pain now coursing through his body, "What the-?!" He threw a glance towards Skulker, noticing as he did so the strange…._thing_….that was now where the bounty hunter's arm used to be. Though that was the easiest way to put it, what was now Skulker's appendage looked remarkably like one of his dad's ghost-busting inventions gone horribly wrong. From shoulder to elbow had been altered into what appeared to be the base of one of the 'Fenton plasma canons,' green and silver wires wound around his upper arm. Hs forearm had taken the form of something similar to the body of a modern-day machine gun-except for the chalky white color which made it stand out, and a blotchy green solution displayed in a transparent canister. Wires from the upper arm connected here as well, plugging into the inside area. However, Skulker's hand had perhaps morphed into the strangest contraption of all: a large cylinder shape where his hand had once been, buttons and switches decorating the top. Extending from that shape was a large, slender needle-which, Danny realized, was stained in a bright red liquid-_blood_. _His _blood.

"Wh-what…. what _is _that?!" Danny gaped, fuming now at the ghost for-at least he was pretty sure- puncturing his side. Skulker grinned maliciously, displaying his arm, eyes blazing. "_This,_ ghost child, is the beginning of your _execution_."

"Execution, huh?" He said, still angry-though the throbbing _was _beginning to subside, "I've heard _that _before."

Skulker scoffed, the smirk still etched into his face. "Make fun all you want, _whelp_. For it may be the last time you are able to." Then, without saying another word, the jetpacks built into Skulker's suit ignited, and he took off.

Danny watched him go, feeling unnerved by the ghost hunter's final parting words. Something about the way Skulker had said the word _last _bothered him, though he didn't know why.


	11. neccessary information

The water from the kitchen faucet felt strangely tingly against the translucent green goo stuck to Jazz's skin. It had been over twenty minutes, and the stuff _still _wouldn't come off. _Hmph, _she thought, scrubbing profusely under the running liquid, _that's the _last _time I help dad clean up after an escaped-ghost. _ For it was precisely that which had put her in this current dilemma. The sticky green substance was, in fact, the remains of the ghost her father had 'caught' earlier-though, considering it had broken through its containment within a matter of minutes, she tended to use the term loosely. _Of course, _I'm _the one who has to clean up after him._ She reflected bitterly, staring at her hands as if they'd wronged her in some fashion, _not to mention he hasn't _done _anything about the hallway yet_. Yes, though he was her father, Jazz sometimes categorized Jack Fenton on the same level as a golden retriever-meaning well, but having _far _too much energy than was good for him.

"It's a good thing Danny and I didn't inherit _that _part of the gene pool," She mused, trying to, as usual, look on the bright side of things, _I mean _ she decided to continue in thought_, we're already prone to dealing with ghosts-imagine if we had dad's energy level too. _ She shuddered. Scary thought.

Speaking of her brother, she suddenly realized, he hadn't come home in quite some time-at least three or so hours. Jazz suspected the movie he had gone to see with his friends to be relatively long, but still….to leave a 2:30 and still be out nearing _5_:30? It just didn't seem right. _Just _please _tell me he didn't run into any trouble_, she thought frantically. By trouble, it was quite obvious she meant _ghosts_-which, on a regular basis, she would have preferred to typical high-school bullies. However, due to her brother's current academic issues, being harassed by students twice his size seemed much _easier_ to handle. But then again, _she w_asn't the one being picked on.

It was then she heard a distinct knocking coming from the front door. Hoping it wasn't another door-to-door salesman, Jazz temporarily removed herself from her post by the sink and headed towards the door.

"Coming!" she chimed, as she reached for the knob. "Who is it?"

"Jazz? Is that you?"

_Phew_, she breathed. It was Danny. "Yeah, it's me," she replied, relieved, "hang on." Turning the handle with a distinct _click,_ Jazz pulled the door back, opening it. "Danny! I'm glad you're home!" she squealed, perhaps a little _too _eccentric than she would have liked, "I was afraid that-eh?" She stopped, words catching in her throat. She couldn't explain it, but the boy staring at her from the other side of the door seemed….different in some way, like a lifetime of enthusiasm had been stripped from him.

"Danny? Are you…okay?"

He didn't respond, save for a heavy sigh, but pushed past her through the doorway and into the house.

_Uh-oh. _Jazz's 'mental alarm' that was solely reserved for understanding her brother, sounded, _something _must _have happened while he was out._ "Danny?" She tried again, but, as she sort of guessed he would, her brother ignored her-heading towards the staircase by the wall instead. He was stubborn, she knew….but then again, so was _she_.

"Don't try giving me the cold shoulder," she warned, forcing a harsh tone into her voice, "I know something went on while you were at the movies-and I _will _find out what it is." A warring argument, if she did say so herself. Nevertheless, if he chose _not _to talk….there really _was _no way to find out what he was hiding. Another thing they both shared genetically-_pigheadedness._

To her surprise, however, the boy suddenly turned around, revealing a large cut across his lower lip as he did so. "Alright, you wanna know what happened?" He snapped, appearing unaware of the blood trickling down his chin, "that stupid box ghost showed up on our way home, made me chase him around until I ran smack into Skulker-then decided he had better things to do while I was left to battle the bounty hunter who kept ranting about…." He abruptly cut himself off, for reasons unknown to Jazz, clenching his hand into a fist before concluding "….about his usual '_I am the ghost zone's greatest hunter, and I will catch you_' crap." Not waiting for her to reply, he then turned back around and proceeded to walk-or trudge- up the stairs.

Jazz held her tongue for a minute, fighting back the urge to comment on his explanation as she watched him go. _I knew it, _she thought, feeling a sense of pride mixed with sentiment for her brother, _poor Danny. He really _does _have a lot more to worry about than the average teenager. _She sighed, also turning, but back to the kitchen to finish washing her hands. _He really could use some help, even if he doesn't want it…._ Wait. Hadn't she had this conversation with herself before? Yes….yes she did. Only hours ago….

"Danny, wait!" She cried out suddenly, jerking her hands out of the still running water and rushing towards the staircase.

Danny, who had been startled by her momentary decision to break the silence, raised an eyebrow. "What?" He replied a little sarcastically.

"Uh, could you uh….for….old times, I guess…." She swallowed. No backing out now. "Could you tell me how you got your ghost powers?"

Okay, _that _definetly caught her brother off-guard, for he almost lost his balance before responding with a shocked "_What?_ Why?"

"Oh, you know," she lied, shoving her hands behind her back to hide any fidgety movement, "just so I can have a chance to understand you a bit more."

Danny frowned, and with good reason. That explanation, she realized, sounded extremely cheesy. "Jazz, do we really have to do this _now? _I have a lot of work to do, you know."

"Oh, come on, it'll only take a second. I promise."

His turn to sigh. "Fine…." Because they were alone, he didn't bother changing directions and _walking _down the stairs-instead, his body became transparent, and stepped off them, through the railing, and landed close to where Jazz was standing. A unique ability-one that could come in handy quite often….

"So….what do you want to know?"

"Hm?" Jazz snapped from her train of thought, remembering suddenly what she had asked her brother.

"About my powers; what do you want to know?"

"O-oh!" she said, laughing nervously, pulling herself together, "Why don't you, um, start at the beginning?"

"The beginning?"

"Yeah. Like, why you were down in dad's lab in the first place."

* * *

It took longer than she expected, but with enough prodding, Danny told her everything: how he and his friends had been down there when his parents had first given up on the ghost portal, how, once left unsupervised, Sam had convinced him to take a look inside it, and how the accidental push of the portal's activation button turned him into a half-ghost. It was an interesting story, one that Jazz was careful to take mental notes while listening to. After all, she didn't want to get _anything _wrong.

Danny exhaled, leaning back on the sofa-they had moved there during the conversation, for standing up was growing quite tiring. "Well, is that _all _you want to know?" He asked in a half-desperate voice.

She smiled, patting him on the back. "Nope. That's everything."

Feeling no reason to stick around, the boy stood, once again, and continued his trek towards and up the stairs. "No kidding." She thought she heard him mutter as he walked away.


	12. phase one: complete

He stood, alone, in the center of a spacious room, facing a large window. Though it stretched from ceiling to floor, no light penetrated through the glass-a feat usually viewed as impossible, or at least unlikely. However, in the Ghost Zone, both words applied quite frequently, if not on a regular basis. Besides, he preferred the dark. It was engulfing-an infinite blanket of blackness secluding its surroundings. It was….to say the least…._ominous_….and he liked it. The dark environment helped him think, and he'd been doing quite a bit of that for a while now. If he hadn't, he'd never have gotten _this _far. Well, he said '_this _far,' but he was still waiting to hear if the first stage of his plan had been complete.

Suddenly, his ears picked up on the sound of footsteps, headed towards him at an alarming rate.

"He's back…." He heard a voice say-female, though he couldn't tell which of the two it was, "….Skulker's back…."

Ah. So he'd returned after all. _Good, _he thought, turning from the window to face the mysterious 'messenger.'

He should have guessed by the lack of harshness , the voice belonged to Penelope Spectra-now leaning against the doorway with her arms crossed, a look of scorn on her sleek face. Odd.

"Skulker's back." She repeated, noticing he'd turned around.

"Yes, I know." He answered, in no particular tone. If at all possible, he'd rather avoid communicating for a long period of time with the ghost-girl-her constant peppiness was far too much for him to bare. If it weren't for what she could _do_, he would have reconsidered recruiting-

The abrupt vmmmm-ing of miniscule rockets rang throughout the hallway-echoing as its sound bounced off the vast walls. _Yes,_ _I know…._his thoughts reiterated, _now if that fool of a bounty hunter would just get _in _here…._

As if on cue, Skulker, via jetpacks, entered the room, nearly running into Spectra as he did so. He waited for the hunter to land, before asking impatiently, "So?"

Skulker grinned nastily and nodded. "Phase one is complete."

_Perfect. _"And did into any _difficulties_, might I ask?"

Skulker paused, remembering the brief run-in with the Box Ghost.

"Well?"

After a time, the bounty hunter shook his head, holding up his arm-hand forming a fist with a metallic _clink_. "No, sir." He replied, eyes glowing, "no trouble at all."

Spectra, still in the doorway, although slightly more disheveled than before, scoffed.

His eyes turned in her direction, gazing over Skulker's massive flaming florescent green 'hair.'

"Something wrong?" He inquired, little if no worry in his tone. The well-being of his-_minions_-he guessed was the best word, didn't really concern him; in fact, he could care less. However, what he _did _care about were the unique abilities each ghost possessed; abilities even _he _lacked. Thus, he had to ensure all four ghosts were on good terms with each other-he didn't want to risk one of them deciding to back out on him. Expecially not _now_.

Spectra stared at him, her vibrant emerald eyes radiating from behind her sunglasses. "Yes, actually," she spat, placing a hand on her hip, "there _is._"

His face still blank, he responded with a less than curious, "What is it, then?"

Her free hand shot up, a shaking finger now pointing towards Skulker, still at his side. "Why does _he _get to be the one to inject that ghost-brat with….I was the one who….I _made _the-! It's not fair Skulker-"

She was clearly very angry about this, which annoyed him. Nevertheless, he sighed, holding up a hand and beckoning to the bounty hunter with two fingers. "Now now, Spectra," he said, suppressing any irritation from his reply, "As I told you all before, I recruited you four specifically for my plan because of what you all can do. The reason I chose Skulker to play _delivery boy_, is because he is the Ghost Zone's greatest _hunter_. Fair or not, he was the _best _one for the task, just as _you _were for concocting the _serum."_

Silence. Good. He had taken the words right from her mouth.

"Now then," he alleged, a smile of satisfaction playing on his lips, "will that be _all_?"

Receiving nothing but a nod from the hunter, and one last cold glare from Spectra, he chuckled, "that's what I thought. Dismissed."


	13. into the poral

It was long past midnight before Jazz dared to venture into the basement that was her parents' lab. Normally, she would have gone to bed long ago; as an 'A' student, Jazz believed that a regular goodnight sleep improved one's academic performance. However, now _wasn't _the time for such thoughts. For what she was about to do didn't follow _anything _she usually did under normal circumstances.

Feeling her way around in the dark, Jazz, as carefully as she could, crept across the cold surface of the floor, trying solely from memory to avoid where her father had stashed various lab equipment. It took a great deal of effort-and time, but finally, she made it to the other side of the room-the side harboring the Fenton portal to the Ghost Zone. By the lack of ecto-green vortex swirling in the center, the girl guessed the portal was shut down. _Wonder who did _that? She thought, inching closer towards it. As far as she knew, it had always been activated-but then again, up until a little while ago, Jazz hadn't really paid much attention to the portal.

_Okay_, she continued to herself, staring into the blackness, _now where is it…._

_Click_.

_Ah-ha._A light switch. Though she had originally debated the option of someone actually _checking _to see if the light had been left on, she had quickly ruled that out due to the fact that she wouldn't be able to _see_ otherwise. Plus, unless one counted the previous racket made by her occasional bumping into equipment, the possibility of her family waking up in the middle of the night were rather slim. Besides, if all went according to her plan, she wouldn't have to worry even if they _did _perchance, wake up.

"Time to begin," she muttered, shifting her direction to a large cubic bureau-type piece of furniture. Now, if she remembered correctly, Danny's first trip into the Fenton portal had involved him putting on some sort of suit for protection. "Found them!" She exclaimed-still quietly-swinging open the two doors on the dresser to reveal a row of hangers full of white suits accompanied with black gloves and boots. Her face fell when she realized their colors were reverse those of the one her brother wore, "then again, he never said what color it _was_." She finished, convincing herself further as she pulled one from the bureau.

After a few minutes of struggling to find a suit that fit, Jazz then turned her attention to the portal itself. She gulped. _Well_, _here goes nothing,_ she thought nervously, concluding the zipping of the two-toned ensemble she was now wearing. She stared at the portal, fear beginning to overtake her. There was no garantee, she realized, that what she was doing would work-what happened to Danny could have been nothing more than a freak-accident….No. NO. It was precisely for her brother that she was doing this in the first place-if she turned chicken now, what kind of older sister would she be? Her ?

It wasn't so bad, she noted, looking around, just very…._technical_. But enough with the 'sight- seeing.' She needed to focus. Needed to find something….

And then, she saw it. The activation switch to the portal on the left side of its wall. If she remembered correctly, it was exactly the pushing of _this _button that had altered Danny's DNA, and turned him into a ghost. _Well, _she thought, sweat beginning to dot her brow, _now it's my turn_. Without a second thought, Jazz reached out with a gloved hand, and slammed it against the 'on' button.

What happened next was very hard to describe. It was like each and every individual molecule in Jazz's body was being electrocuted, as her entire body tingled-almost _stung_-like mad. She felt hot, like she was on fire, yet there was no burning odor to confirm it. She wanted to scream, but her teeth were clenched tightly together, preventing any words from escaping her mouth. Indeed, she seemed to have no free movement over her body; the surge of energy from the portal preventing her brain from sending transmissions to the rest of her. It was even hard to think straight, let alone at all. An eerie light kept flashing on and off as the portal continually tried to open itself around the girl now trapped in the middle. And as its persistence increased in energy, Jazz's_ own_ energy seemed to be fading. The room around her was growing blurry, and, though still caught, she was starting to feel extremely disoriented. _N-no…._her mind fought, it too becoming cloudy, _Danny…I….I…._the strain proved too much, as all at once, her efforts failed her, and everything faded to black….

* * *

_Where…where __am__….I? _Jazz groaned, opening her eyes. _What-what happened….? _ Her surroundings were fuzzed, and there was a feeling of lightheadedness about her. There was something hard against her back, and, blinking several times, she realized what she had been, in fact, looking at, was a large, 'technical-looking' surface glaring back at her. Reaching up with a….wait….reaching _up_? If that were the case, she must have been staring at the ceiling….which meant that she was on the….

Jazz's senses abruptly snapped back into focus, and she bolted upright. She was on the _floor?_ Did that mean she had….passed out? Suddenly growing anxious, Jazz sprang to her feet. If she _had _passed out, then how long had it been for? And more importantly, what time was it _now?_ Again, reaching up with an arm, she made to look at it as if wearing a watch, forgetting she had left it outside the portal with the rest of her clothes. She should have realized it from lack of weight around her wrist, but looking at her white-gloved hand….Hold on. _White _gloved hand? _Weren't….wasn't my glove _black _before?_ She thought questioningly, examining the strange switch in color of her garment . As she examined it, it became clear to her that not only had her gloved changed color, but her entire _sleeve _as well. Originally white, her sleeve had now been changed to a sleek black. As her eyes followed her sleeve down, she learned not only had _its _color been switched, but the entirety of her suit's colors had been reversed. _That's odd_ she thought, _it looks just like….Danny's…._

She tensed, a strange feeling in her chest. Whirling around, her eyes searched eagerly along the walls of the Fenton portal. _Where is it….._she asked herself, _Danny said when he woke up there was a…._ As these thoughts ran through her head, Jazz's pupils fell upon what she was looking for. The _mirror._ The mirror her _brother _had looked through and saw his ghostly reflection looking back at him for the first time. As she approached it, she wondered if _she_ would experience the same thing.

Now only centimeters away, Jazz gulped, suspense gripping at her insides. _Oh this is ridiculous,_ she scolded, pushing her nervousness aside. If she was going to learn the truth, she was going to do it _now_. Her teeth gritted, and, somewhat forcing herself, Jazz darted in front of the mirror.

If it were physically possible, Jazz's jaw would have dropped a full foot. And with good reason. For staring back at her was a girl in a black suit, white gloves, belt and boots, a black headband in her shockingly white hair, and, perhaps most noticeably, glowing _green _eyes. As stunned as she was, Jazz couldn't help but smile. "I….I can't believe it….." she breathed, staring at her reflection in awe, "….it worked."


	14. the next morning

It had taken a good deal of the night-at least a few hours-but Jazz finally managed to change herself back. Similar to her brother's audible "going ghost," Jazz discovered she simply had to think the words 'change back,' for two glowing white rings to form around her, re-transforming her ghostly body back into her regular human body. The process was exhausting, but each time she did it filled Jazz with a feeling of exhilaration and elation. And with good reason, considering what she had just done.

Yawning suddenly, Jazz somewhat lazily raised her arm, looking at her wrist with aqua-colored eyes. Having put her clothes back on, her wrist, in turn, once again wore a watch. A watch that, as she studied its face, had it hands fixed on the time of about 2:30 AM. Jazz gasped. It was already _much _later than the time she had originally planned on staying up to. And to make matters worse-tonight was a weeknight-meaning she had _school _the following morning. Well, technically it was _already_ morning, but seeing as to how the sun hadn't risen yet, she figured-at least, she _hoped_-she'd be able to catch a few hours' sleep before her alarm clock went off.

Sighing then, she yawned once more, making sure she had collected her things before turning off the lights, and carefully tiptoeing out of the lab.

* * *

RIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIING!!

"Jazz, honey! Time to get up!"

"Uhn…." Jazz groaned, wincing as the ear-piercing sound formed by her alarm clock mixing in with her mother's voice shook her from her slumber. Of all mornings for such a racket to occur. Raising her arms over her head to stretch them, she was surprised when the hard surface of the ceiling met her hands. _Huh?_ She thought, still drowsy, _that's odd_. _I wonder why…._

"Jasmine? Come on! It's breakfast time!"

Ugh. As if the _other _two noises combined weren't enough. "I'm coming I'm coming." She hollered back, aggravation beginning to rouse her senses. Muttering something under her breath, Jazz sat up….

….which was followed by a sharp cry and loud banging.

"What the-!?" She shrieked, instantly clutching her now-throbbing head. "How did-" Her eyebrows narrowing, Jazz's eyes shot upward, wondering what on earth she could have hit. What she _saw_, however, had _not _at all been what she was expecting. _That…That looks like…._ Her mind stuttered, shocked_….why does the ceiling look like the bottom of my mattress? _ Not quite sure _what _to make of this whole scenario, Jazz, after lying down again, rolled onto her side-only to find the backside of the dust ruffle staring back at her. Suddenly feeling panicked, she rolled again until she was lying on her stomach and pulled herself through the dark curtain and squeaking when her eyes were greeted with the bright light flooding her bedroom.

Even before she looked over her shoulder, Jazz knew that somehow, during the night, she had wound up_ under_ her bed. Which is where she had found herself in the morning. The question was, _how _had she gotten there? Had she fallen off her bed and rolled under while still asleep? Jazz shook her head. _No….that can't be it_, she contemplated while searching her drawers for her clothes, _I'm sure I would have woken up if I really _had_ fallen off the bed…._

"Hurry up Jazzy! Can't fight ghosts without the most important meal of the day!"

"Coming dad!" she called back. Oh well. Whatever the reason, she'd figure it out _after_ breakfast.

However, things going _downstairs _were also far from ordinary. Having little time to brush her hair, Jazz decided to take it-the brush-with her, knowing full well there was a mirror in the hall by the door-something her mom had bought recently. Moving swiftly, she darted from her room, not stopping once until she reached the bottom of the staircase.

The sudden movement caught her father's attention. "Jasmine? Is that you?"

"Yeah….dad…." she gasped, a little out of breath as she headed towards the mirror, already beginning to comb the knots from her orange hair.

She didn't look at him, but her father's response had changed to one of confusion. "Where are you?"

'Where _was_ she?' What a strange thing to ask, especially because there was very slim chance he would have missed her running down the stairs. But, knowing him to be somewhat oblivious, she shrugged, replying simply. "I'm in the hall, dad. Didn't have time to-AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!" Jazz's eyes widened as she stared into the mirror, and the brush, grasped in her hand, fell to the floor. Her reflection. _ Where_ was her reflection? There was supposed to be a parallel image of herself looking back at her in the mirror, but instead, Jazz saw _nothing_. Well, that wasn't entirely true. It was only _herself_ she couldn't' see. Like she was invisi-

"Jazz?" Her mother called, having heard her daughter scream, "Is something wrong?"

"N-n-n-no…." she managed, trying to keep the stuttering from her voice, "N-n-no need to worry!"

"Are you sure? You sound kind of….alarmed."

Alarmed? Of course she was alarmed. She was staring into the mirror and there was no one staring back at her! But of course, she _couldn't_ tell her mother that. "I'm fine mom! Fine! Nothing's the matter at all! Why would there be? Just brushing my hair! Is there anything wrong with that?" _Great, just great,_ Jazz thought, panic rising in her chest, _what am I going to do? I don't __have a__ reflection-I…I-I'm completely…._

"Hey Jazz," a lazing voice that could only be her brother called, "What's up?"

Jazz jumped, whirling around. "Nothing, just…." She paused. "Wait….you can _see _me?"

Danny cocked his head, raising an eyebrow. "Um, of _course _I can see you, Jazz. You're right _in f_r_ont _of me. But why were-"

"Oh, uh, hehe….no reason!" she quickly lied, rushing towards her brother and pushing him towards the kitchen, too pre-occupied to notice as a long wavy blue puff of smoke escaped her mouth, "Let's go eat breakfast!" _Phew,_ she breathed, throwing a glance at her now-visible hands lodged into Danny's back, _it wore off._ She was lucky, she realized, that neither her parents or her brother had walked in on her while she was….invisible. _That_ would have created problems, problems not even _she _could get herself out of.


	15. trouble at school

**Well, I'm back! It certainly has been a while, huh? Sorry for the delay; hehe, it probably would have gone on longer, but I told myself this time that I would NOT put this story on hiatus, or worse, not finish it! Yep, I do intend to see "All That Jazz" to its end, provided I have any readers left after that brief absence! So, if there IS anyone left out there, please enjoy these next to chapters, my present to you after being away for long!!**

School wasn't any easier. Since only acquiring ghostly powers the previous night, Jazz was beginning to realize as the day went on just how difficult it was to keep control of them. Twice she had caught herself sinking through the floor, and she was more than positive she had faded through a few objects while walking to and from classes. Luckily, though, in the hustle and bustle of the crowded hallway, no one had paid any mind to her. She sighed, leaning against her locker with an arm. "And I thought my life was hectic_ before_," Jazz thought aloud, creasing her eyebrows. "How did Danny ever-"

"Hey Jazz," she heard someone call suddenly "something wrong?"

Jazz turned her head, slightly jumping as the voice had caught her off guard. Her eyes widened a little and she let out a small squeak. "Oh! _Hi_, Danny!" she chimed with fake excitement, "Fancy meeting you here!" She forced her lips into a smile, though mentally she was kicking herself for speaking so carelessly. Danny cocked his head, seeming confused. Jazz hoped beyond all hope he wouldn't see through her guise, and more importantly, hadn't heard her articulating her thoughts.

"Uh….Jazz? Are you alright?"

"Huh?" She blinked, drawing in a sharp breath. "W-what? Why would you ask that? " She inquired, sweat starting to dot her forehead. Of all people, Danny was the _last _person she wanted to discover her ghost powers-if _he_ found out, she knew, everything she had planned for would have ended almost as soon as it had begun. _Come on Jazz, _she begged herself frantically,_ just answer his question and get him out of there before something _else_ happens!_ By 'something else' Jazz meant yet again losing control of her new abilities in front of her brother.

"Jazz?"

Jazz refocused her aqua-blue eyes on the raven haired boy before her, choosing her words carefully before she spoke. "Look, Danny," she began slowly, studying his face, "I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Just a little…." A pause, "….stressed is all-too much studying." She forced herself to laugh, hoping her performance was convincing. "….so, uh….thanks for your concern, but I'm totally okay! No need to worry at all."

The boy raised an eyebrow, giving his sister a strange look. "….Are you sure? You seem kind of…." His sentence was cut short, as a blue wisp of smoke quickly escaped his mouth. His eyes widened for a moment, and he watched it, expression slowly morphing into one of exasperation.

"My ghost sense?" He questioned, frustration dripping in each word, "Oh great." He cast a look at his sister, who seemed equally surprised, before his eyes started darting about the hall, looking for whatever it was that had caused his ghost sense to go off.

Jazz, who had seen the blue puff of smoke before, joined her brother in a visual scan of the room, completely unaware that the same wispy strand suddenly sprang from _her_ mouth, until she realized there was an abnormal feeling of cold in her throat. She gasped. So she had attained _that _ability as well.

Her gasp had caught Danny's attention, and he spun around, eyes flashing green. "Jazz!" he cried, curling his hands into fists, "Did you see something?!"

_Yes,_ she answered inwardl_y, an icy blue strand of smoke just came out of my mouth! _Of course, she couldn't tell her brother this, no matter how shocking it may have been. So instead, Jazz bit her tongue and shook her head, not trusting herself to speak.

Danny apparently took the bait, for he shrugged, scratching his head in confusion. "Huh. That's odd."

"What is?"

"You didn't see anything, right? So…." He paused, his eyebrows knitting deeper into his forehead, "….what caused my ghost sense to go off? That'd only happen if there was another ghost around, but…." He ended his phrase there, still pondering over the strange occurrence.

Jazz cringed, knowing full well that there was, in fact, another ghost around. _Her_. However, the only way Danny would figure that out would be if she happened to transform….and seeing as to how little control she had over her powers, _that _could be at any moment. The orange-haired girl was suddenly reminded that she had, in fact, been trying to get rid of her brother prior to the discovery of her own ghost sense. He previous feelings of anxiety resurfaced, and, a little forcefully, Jazz stated "Don't you have to get to class?"

Danny scowled, obviously unappreciative of her harsh tone. "Yeah." He muttered coldly, turning around, "Don't have to remind me." His shoulders slumped a bit as he walked off, annoyed with his sister's seeming domineering manner. Jazz smiled sadly as she watched him go, again shaking her head. _Sorry, little brother,_ she apologized silently, _but this time, it _is _necessary. _

As if on cue, Jazz suddenly let out a shriek as she fell forward, her arm having phased through her locker.


	16. stress induced

"Does Jazz seem….different to you today?" Danny asked his two friends as the three of them headed towards the cafeteria. A few hours had passed since Danny's run-in with his sister that morning, and it was now lunch-time. Still, his meeting with her was…._odd_, if anything else, though Danny wasn't exactly sure _why _he had come to that conclusion. Jazz always had been eccentric, especially at school, but for some reason….she seemed a little…._off_ this morning.

"Different?" Sam echoed in question, turning her head to look at him, "What do you mean, exactly?"

Danny shrugged. "I don't know. She just seems….distant. That's really the best way I can put it."

"Distant, huh?" Tucker, who had been previously studying the contents of his lunchbox, interjected "that's not much to go by, Danny."

He sighed. "I know…..I just…." He stopped there, hesitant to continue. After a moment or two, though, he thought better of himself and resumed his explanation. "It sounds crazy, but….for some reason, I feel like she's _hiding _something from me." He looked away, knowing how ridiculous he must have sounded for coming to such an obscure conclusion.

"_Hiding _something? From _you_?" Tucker asked curiously, though he was still focusing on his soon-to-be-eaten meal, "Come on Danny, this is Jazz we're talking about."

He nodded, his eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty. "_Exactly_. And that's what I'm worried about."

Sam, who had remained quiet for some time, decided to voice her opinion of this 'situation.' "Jazz may have book smarts, but she isn't exactly the best at keeping a secret….."

"But that's just it!" Danny suddenly cried, "She _is_!" He was about to throw his arms up in frustration, before he realized if he did so, the contents in _his _lunchbox would end up scattered across the hall. And he for one, did not feel like eating lunch off the floor. Choosing to shake his head instead, Danny's worried gaze shifted to his friends. "Jazz kept my secret for a long time-I didn't even know she knew I was…." He paused, quickly looking around to see if anyone was listening. Fortunately, the student body was either in class at the moment or already down at the cafeteria. "….half-ghost." He continued, once he assured himself the coast was clear, "and had I known she knew my life would have become a lot easier a long time ago." His brow furrowed then, and his free hand tightened into a fist. "The point is, Jazz is no amature at keeping secrets, so if she _is _hiding something, I'll have no way of knowing." His positioned slumped a bit as he finished, signaling he had no idea what to do.

Sam noticed this, and slowing her pace to match his, said simply, "look, you can't just make wild accusations about someone, especially Jazz. She's done more for you than anyone you've ever known….even more than Tucker and myself. And even when she didn't know your secret-Jazz trusted you. She always….most of the time she has. So…." She cast a glance at her friend, who, thankfully, 

seemed relieved to hear the words she was speaking. Sam smiled, reaching out to touch Danny's shoulder. ""If you ask me, I don't think it's fair for you not to trust her the way she's trusted you. Besides…." Sam's calming smile suddenly changed to a mischevious grin. "It's not like _you've _never kept a secret."

Danny smiled then, and he laughed. "True true." He replied, uncurling his fist, "Can't argue with that."

"Hey!" Tucker called out, interrupting the two, "are you guys coming or what? Some of us _do _wanna eat, y'know!"

Sam rolled her eyes, changing her walk to a slight jog as she hurried to catch up to the boy in front. "Yeah yeah, we're coming! Hold on!" She turned again to look at Danny. "You _are _coming, aren't you?" She challenged with a smirk. He nodded, returning her look with one of his own.

"You bet I am." He alleged, also increasing his pace….

….suddenly, everything began to feel off-balance, causing Danny to come to an abrupt halt. He looked around, noticing, with alarm, that everything looked blurry and out of focus. The world around him began shifting and contorting, until what was once the Casper High hallway had become a warped spiral of blotchy colors. A pang of fear suddenly struck the boy, and he spun around, realizing too late how disoriented he had become, and as a result, fell crashing to the floor.

"DANNY!" He heard Sam and Tucker scream simultaneously, the noise his body had made when it landed obviously alerting them. His eyes, previously closed after he hit the hard surface, opened, his heart beating like a drum in his ears. However, when he opened his eyes….everything….was back to normal.

"Are you alright?!" Sam cried, her face now only inches from his.

Danny let out a small groan and nodded, pulled himself into a sitting position. "Yeah….yeah….I'm fine…." He assured them, rubbing his head, "just a little dizzy, is all. Nothing to worry about."

"Are you sure?" Tucker inquired, offering his hand as assistance to the boy on the floor. Danny smiled, somewhat unconvincingly, and grasped his hand, struggling as the two boys hauled him to his feet.

"Yeah. Guess the stress of school is getting to me, huh?" He watched them both as they verbally agreed, yet the tone of their voices and the expressions on their faces told Danny otherwise….but what else could say? Truth be told, the boy had no idea what had just happened to him-he'd never experienced a dizziness like _that_ before. It almost frightened him. _Almost_. But….he felt perfectly fine now, like nothing had ever happened, so what did he have to worry about? "Yeah….yeah….it's gotta be the stress."


	17. going ghost!

The door to Fenton Works burst open, and a wired, worn out Jazz pulled herself through the doorway, nearly collapsing on the carpet on the other side. Today had perhaps, been the most exhausting day of her life-though, it wasn't her body itself that was tired, but her brain. It seemed everywhere she went, Jazz felt as though she were treading on thin ice-not knowing when and if her powers would escape what little control she had on them, and she'd perform some super human feat, right in front of her fellow students. She knew if they saw her phase through a wall, or turn invisible….or….dare she mention it…._fly_, they wouldn't know how to handle it. Heck, someone might even call the police on her. Now, of course Jazz couldn't really blame anyone-if she hadn't had ghost hunters for parents, or a half-ghost for a brother, she would probably be in every other student's position when coming in contact with the supernatural. Still, Jazz's mind had somehow been able to reach a new level of strain-one she was sure hadn't been charted.

"Phew," she breathed, sagging her shoulders, "I had no idea becoming a-" a quick glance to see if anyone was listening, "-ghost would be so much work! " She laughed, tired as she was. "Danny makes it look easy." Jazz sighed, suddenly reminded that until she mastered her abilities, she 'd have to endure going through school like _that _again. And just as suddenly, the laughter died in her vocal chords.

Now feeling slightly depressed as well as tired, Jazz forced her body to drag itself out of the hallway and slowly make its way to the living room. What she needed was some quality time to herself so she could relax and calm her nerves. Or at least figure out a way to remain solidified for more than five minutes.

As fate would have it, Jazz didn't make it past the kitchen. A mop of messy jet-black hair hovering over the table caught her attention. "Danny?" She asked, trying to add some enthusiasm to her voice, "is that you?"

It obviously must have been, for the mop of hair nodded, muttering a "yeah."

"Really?" Jazz asked, deciding to abandon her previous idea and join her brother in the kitchen, "what are you doing home so early? I thought you usually hung out with Sam and Tucker after school?"

He shrugged. "Wasn't in the mood. " He coughed, hunching over the table he was seated at.

_'Wasn't in the mood?' _Jazz repeated mentally, cocking her head, _That doesn't sound like Danny. _

"Are you okay?" She inquired, making her way over to him.

"Yeah." He answered, followed by a cough, "But I think I might be coming down with something. Felt a little….dizzy at school." He coughed again, covering his mouth with his hand. Jazz raised an eyebrow.

_Well, not what I thought he'd say, but good to know I suppose, _she thought, folding her arms. She was now only a few feet or so away from the table-close enough that she could see over Danny's shoulder and vaguely glimpse what he was doing, which she hoped was his homework. "As much as I 

care about your health, what I _meant _was did you get into any fights with ghosts on your way home from school?"

He didn't have to answer directly; Jazz could tell just by looking at the back of his head that he was rolling his eyes in response to her question. "Isn't that a given?" he stated coldly, fidgeting with the pencil in his hand. "Has there ever been a day in my life where a ghost _hasn't _caused trouble?"

A brief silence followed the two, as Jazz really couldn't think of a response to his question. Ever since acquiring his abilities, ghosts _had _in fact, attacked her brother on a daily basis. _Well, at least he's doing his homework,_ she thought, trying to increase the sullen mood that had fallen on them, "That _is _homework you're doing, right Danny?" She asked, just to reassure herself.

Danny nodded, turning his head to look at his sister. "Yep. I figured I may as well get as much done as I can, while I'm here."

That comment, no matter _what _tone it may have been in, caused Jazz to smile, mainly because she felt as if her brother was actually taking her advice for once. And that was worth more than anything to the orange-haired girl. She reached up then, now closer to Danny than before, and ruffled his black hair fondly. "Well, I'll leave you to your work," she said, swiveling back around towards the direction of the hall. If her brother had finally set his mind to doing his work, it was best not to interrupt him or his motivation-whatever it may have been. Not to mention the couch in the living room was still calling her name, though in order not to disturb her brother, Jazz quickly changed her 'nap in the living room' to a 'nap in her bedroom.'

_Relaxation, here I come_, she reflected eagerly, already picturing the soft, fluffy pillows and warm flannel sheets….

But again, Jazz was detoured from her destination. For just as she reached the halfway point on the staircase, the same wispy blue strand of smoke came spiraling from her mouth. What did Danny call it….his 'ghost sense?' _Come to think of it, it went off earlier too,_ Jazz pondered, hand lightly clutching at her throat-which was now unnaturally cold. Suddenly, a realization came over her. If this so-called 'ghost sense went off when only around ghosts….was it possible that _she _and danny activated each others'?_ That _would _explain what happened at school,_ she thought dropping her hand as the cold went away, _but Danny's down in the kitchen now….he wouldn't be able to activate _my_ ghost sense….so that must mean…._

"Oh no," Jazz cried suddenly, spinning on her heal, though still on the steps, "Danny!" Hurridly, the girl began racing down the stairs-she had to warn her brother if there was a ghost nearby. He'd need to….And, just as quickly as she had started running, Jazz came to a sudden stop. If there w_as_ a ghost around, Danny would most likely have to stop doing his work to chase after it. But, with his current grades, she was sure he knew that wasn't a smart idea. Danny couldn't afford to fail anymore tests, even with the excuse of 'community work.' No….he needed to get as much homework done as possible…._that_ was obvious.

However….

_Jazz's_ grades were the highest in almost all her classes. Even if she missed one assignment, or only partially finished it, the damage wouldn't be so bad-heck, there would hardly be any damage at all….

….Suddenly her brow furrowed, and her eyes began to glow an eerie green. She had given herself ghost powers to help her brother, right? And what better way to start than by allowing him to finally finish some of his homework? The plan was perfect….

…until of course, she realized she barely had any control over her powers. Nevertheless, Jazz gritted her teeth, pushing whatever doubt there may have been from her mind. She didn't care about how much control she had. Her brother needed her help-even if he wasn't fully aware of it. So, clenching her hands into fists, Jazz gulped, and, mimicking her brother, stated, quietly so Danny wouldn't hear, "I'm going ghost."

The same feeling of elation as before filled her body, as two glowing white rings appeared around her mid-section, separating-one going up, the other down-all the while transforming her into a half-ghost. As before, the clothes Jazz had been wearing magically became the suit of black and white she had worn the previous night, and her headband changed its color to black as well. Her bright orange hair turned snow-white, and her eyes now remained the same green color as before. She felt a jolt of power surge through her then, and she smiled, despite how unsure she was. 'Alright," she muttered to herself, "Let's do this."

Easier said than done. Though Jazz was now in her ghostly form, she honestly had no idea how to call upon her powers. One thing she had forgotten to ask her brother._ Well it's too late now, _Jazz stubbornly reflected, still in awe of herself. But, as she thought about it, Jazz began to realize that, similar to when he changed back, Danny never uttered one audible word, no matter what ability or abilities he was using. They just seemed to come to him as he needed them. _Unless….unless it _is _the same when he changes back! Maybe I don't need to say the name of the power I want….maybe I just have to _think _it! _

There was only one way to find out. Shutting her eyes, Jazz mentally uttered the word "invisible." Then, just as quickly, opened them again, and held up one hand. It wasn't completely invisible-actually, it seemed to be flickering in and out of being able to be seen and then not. But for the moment, it was good enough. It had to be.

After a few minutes or so, Jazz had been able to successfully phase herself through the wall, and managed to leave the house without her brother noticing. Now all that remained for her to do was find the ghost that had caused her ghost-sense to go off. "I guess the best way to do that would be to get a clear view of the area" she thought aloud, shifting her glance towards the sky. Which meant of course, she had to be able to _fly_. And that was _not _something Jazz had looked forward to testing. If the other experiments with her powers had failed, she'd be fine; still on the ground, and still in one piece. But if she lost control while in the air….she could seriously injure herself. Or _worse_. _I should have thought of _

_that before, _she reasoned, scolding herself. There was no time for cowardice. Not with a ghost on the loose. Whoever it was, the ghost would obviously be able to fly, and as such, _she _needed to be able to as well.

"Get a grip, Jazz," she told herself, keeping her eyes solely on the sky above. She closed her eyes again-she felt safer that way- and carefully thought the word "fly."

It took a little convincing, but Jazz finally opened her eyes….and nearly screamed. When she looked down, she had come to the terrifying realization that there was nothing under her feet. Meaning, in fact, she was now airborne. "Okay….okay….this is good…." She said nervously, "as long as I keep that word in my mind I should be fine…." She _was _ a ghost now, after all. Even if she _did _lose control, she could always phase herself through the ground...if she managed to think of it in time...

The blue wisp that was her ghost-sense escaped from her mouth at that moment, thought strangely, the bitter coldness that usually came with it wasn't there. _Perhaps a ghost's body temperature is different than a human's,_ Jazz thought, her green eyes darting around, searching for the illusive poltergeist. If her ghost-sense went off, chances were the creature was close by. Choosing not to say another word, Jazz scanned the area once more with her eyes, before deciding on one specific direction. She was just about to attempt flight movement, when her ghost-sense flew from her mouth again, followed by an annoying, and painfully familiar voice.

"I AM THE BOX GHOST! WHO ARE YOU?!"

"_You_?" She questioned, a mix of aggravation and relief sweeping through her, "_You're _the one who kept setting off my ghost-sense?"

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT?!" he cried, waving his arms over his head in attempts to look menacing, "I AM A GHOST. THEREFORE I SHALL SET OFF YOUR GHOST-SENSE!!"

_He has a point,_ the girl thought drearily, starting to become impatient with the foolish ghost before her. If it weren't for the fact that she had only begun using her powers, Jazz would have preferred to go up against any other ghost….just so long as it wasn't the one in front of her _one._

"I BELIEVE I JUST ASKED YOU A QUESTION!!" The box Ghost hollered again, breaking Jazz for her train of thought, _"_WHY DO YOU NOT RESPOND?!"

For once, Jazz actually growled. "I didn't hear you." She alleged, starting to become annoyed.

"I AM SHREIKING AT AN ABNORMALY LOUD LEVEL! HOW CAN YOU NOW HERE WHAT I-THE BOX GHOST-HAVE TO SAY?!"

_Come on Jazz, _she pleaded with herself, _keep your cool. _"Why…." She started, having to remind herself over and over that if her powers failed her, the box ghost could very well become too powerful for her, "….why don't you _repeat _your question. So I can hear it again."

The Box Ghost paused for a moment or two, looking thoughtful, before answering, "VERY WELL! LISTEN CAREFULLY! MY QUESTION WAS SIMPLY: WHO ARE YOU!? WHY DO YOU LOOK LIKE THAT ANNOYING AND STRONG GHOST-BOY, YET YOU ARE A GIRL!? I AM CONFUSED!!"

After making sure she _hadn't _lost her hearing, Jazz gave a pause of her own, taken aback by the Box Ghost's question, and in turn, trying to find an appropriate response for it. Unfortunately, she wasn't given much time

"I AM WAITING FOR YOUR ANSWER!! DO NOT KEEP THE BOX GHOST WAITING!!"

_Stay calm, _she kept telling herself, _stay calm_. "Well, er, Box Ghost….I'm…."

"YES?!"

"….a…._friend_….of your so-called 'ghost boy.'

"IF THAT IS TRUE THEN HOW COME I HAVE NOT SEEN YOU HERE BEFORE?!" The Box Ghost prodded, becoming a little _too_ curious for Jazz's liking. She scowled, her green eyes narrowing.

"Must you ask so any questions? Look, I'm just filling in for him for awhile, okay? Just until he….uh….takes care of some _other _business." _Or at least, I'm going to _try _to, _she added, but only too herself.

The Box Ghost just hovered, a blank expression on his face as he took in the information Jazz had given him. Finally, he scratched his head, before pointing a finger at the ghost-girl. "IF YOU ARE TAKING HIS PLACE, THEN YOU ARE NOW AN ENEMY OF THE BOX GHOST!" He shrieked, shaking his hand vigorously. He stared at Jazz in an as menacing way as he could, though to her, he indeed looked quite ridiculous. The Box Ghost, however, was not aware of this, for, as he had done previously, he lifted both arms over his head and shouted, "BEWARE!"


	18. first battle

Jazz's green eyes glared at the stout ghost before her, relaying her options for an attack as she did so. The Box Ghost, foolish as he may have been, had a full grasp of his powers and, she noted, was a full-blooded phantom. _She _on the other hand, was only half-ghost, and had only been so for about a day. Not to mention the limited control of her powers. However, she had been able to maintain flight so far, a good thing considering how high off the ground she was. In fact, the process of maneuvering in the air was surprisingly simple-actually, it was much like walking. One didn't even have to think about movement-they just did. _That's a relief, _Jazz breathed, the panic that had begun building in her chest subsiding, _now….what should I do about the Box Ghost?_

It was quite odd, actually. While the halfa-girl temporarily ventured into her thoughts, the poltergeist hadn't really been aware of it-rather, he seemed to be _waiting _for her to attack….either that, or looking for some large cubicle object to hurl at her. Which is what eventually caught Jazz's attention. They were in mid-air, she noticed, far from any area where the Box Ghost could summon things to use as weapons. And as such, it meant he was without any means of self-defense, giving her the upper hand.

She smirked, and shifted her body into a fighting stance, ignoring the fact, while in mid-air, it would do her little good. "Hey, Box Ghost," she alleged, a tone of challenge in her voice, "if I'm an enemy of yours, why don't you attack me?"

The Box Ghost blinked, just realizing he had been spoken to. "THE BOX GHOST TAKES NO SUGGESTIONS!" He bellowed, shaking a hand at the girl, " I WILL FIGHT WHEN I CHOOSE TO! YOU SHALL NOT BE THE ONE TO DECIDE FOR THE BOX GHOST! FOR HE DECIDES FOR HIMSELF!"

"Uh-_huh._" She replied sarcastically, becoming strangely comfortable with talking to the odd little ghost, "You're stalling-aren't you?"

Perhaps it was how Jazz had said it, or that she said anything at all, for the Box Ghost actually _flinched._ "CURSE YOU! YOU HAVE SEEN THROUGH MY PLAN! NO ONE HAS EVER BEEN ABLE TO DETECT WHEN I-THE BOX GHOST-HAVE BEEN, AS YOU HAVE JUST STATED, _STALLING_!"

Jazz crossed her arms. "Really." She contradicted, eyes narrowing. "I doubt that." She watched the Box Ghost carefully, noticing little by little his confidence was beginning to waver. Which meant to Jazz that, even if her physical powers chose not to respond, she had another weapon to use-her intelligence. And by the looks of her opponent, he wasn't used to battling with his wits…..providing he even had any, which Jazz was beginning to doubt. _I knew being smart would pay off,_ she thought, mentally patting herself on the back as she approached the Box Ghost. She may have been new to the whole 'Ghost busting' scenario, but slowly, a strategy started forming in her mind. _If I can just keep talking, maybe I can summon one of my powers and catch him off guard! _ It was worth a shot, at least.

"Let me….get this straight," Jazz began carefully, looking the Box Ghost directly in is beady crimson eyes, "….you…..you know we're floating way above the ground, don't you?"

He nodded, raising an eyebrow. "YES! BUT I DO NOT UNDERSTAND WHY YOU ARE BRINGING THIS UP! IT DOES NOT MAKE SENSE!"

_It will, _Jazz assured him inwardly, hastily putting together her next response. If anything, she did _not _want the Box Ghost to catch on to what she was doing, even though the chances of that happening looked extremely slim. "So….now that I know you know that…." She continued, "do you _also r_ealize we're nowhere near an area where you can summon boxes to use against me?"

The poltergeist scowled, yet made no response. That only increased the grin on Jazz's face."I see. So you were hoping to…trick me? Make me think you had some ingenious plan up your sleeve until you could lure me to an area where you _could _find some necessary weapons?" She shook her head, pretending to scold him, when in reality she was mentally scrolling through her powers, trying to find one that didn't seem to require too much control. "Really now, Box Ghost-what were you thinking? Or…._were _you thinking?"

"DO NOT MOCK THE BOX GHOST! FOR I AM THE MASTER OF ALL OBJECTS SQUARE!" His hands were raised in the same fashion as before, but Jazz could see the uncertainty shining in his eyes.

"I'm….I'm not mocking you!" She cried, putting up a false sense of hurt, "…..I'm just _stalling_." As soon as the words escaped her lips, Jazz flew forward, screaming the word 'invisible' in her head. She couldn't directly tell, for her eyes were locked onto her target, but by the look on the Box Ghost's faced, it had indeed seemed like she had made herself invisible. She smiled, despite the situation, pleased with herself for successfully completing her plan….Correction. There was _still_ one thing left to do. As she speeded towards her opponent, Jazz curled her dominant hand into a fist. _I hope this works,_ she thought. It should. She had seen Danny beat countless enemies to a pulp with just his fists-meaning that, as a ghost, he must have had super-human strength. Though Jazz was no expert in direct hand to hand combat, she had gone through the same process as her brother, hadn't she? Meaning she must have attained the same abilities as a result. In any case, she had no time to test that theory, for in less than a second, she'd be right in the Box Ghost's face. Gritting her teeth, Jazz tightened her fist, and swung.


	19. Ember's turn

Ember Mclain sat alone in the meeting hall, picking at her guitar strings. She was bored. Very bored. And more than anything else-_annoyed_ with her current situation. It had been less than a few days under their so-called new 'leader,' and already she was fed up with him. True, Ember had never served under anyone before-she had always been a loner….or if she _had_ to work with someone, they were _always _on equal terms. So perhaps that was part of the reason for her rotten mood. _Perhaps_.

However, Ember was no fool, despite being young, and knew, more than anything else, that the reason she'd been feeling agitated was because she hadn't _done _anything yet. Spectra, Skulker….even Technus, had all participated in their 'master's plan to destroy the ghost-boy….except Ember herself. She was the only one who had yet to see some action. And _that_ ticked her off to no end. If their leader wasn't going to use her talents, then why had he even bothered recruiting her in the first place? Hadn't he intended to use her abilities? She was, after all, a hypnotist, in a sense-surely he could have found some use for _that_ in his plan-why else would he employ her?

Ember scoffed, crossing her arms. She could have just as easily taken the ghost-boy on her own by now; she didn't need someone to tell her to do it. In fact, she didn't need anyone to tell her to do _anything_; as a ghost, what rules did she have to follow?

Still, there was something about this new ghost-the one in charge-that filled the ghost-teen with dread. She didn't know _why_ of course, heck , she didn't even know who he was. Yet, even not knowing his name, Ember could sense something…._different_ about this ghost….something powerful. And she didn't like it at all.

"Hey, Ember."

The blue-haired girl suddenly snapped from her train of thought, recognizing the voice that had called her. She looked up, aggravation filling her glowing green eyes.

"_Spectra_," she barked, dropping her arms, "what do _you _want?"

The other ghost-girl smiled, placing a hand on her hip, "boss wants to see you."

Great. So now they'd even started call him 'boss.' Ember didn't take this news so highly, for her hair-tied in a ponytail, began to stand up like fire-the roar of its flame matching her mood. "Since when did _you _become his messenger girl, _dipstick_?" she uttered coldly, in no frame of mind to deal with their leader or the girl before her. Spectra frowned, her other hand finding a way to her hip.

"I'd watch your tongue if I were you, _young lady_," she warned, mockery hinted in her voice.

"And _I'd w_atch your back." Ember shot, rising from her seat. "I don't care if he's strong-you shouldn't warm up to your so-called 'boss,' Spectra." She growled, stalking over to the door where the older girl stood, and pushed past her, ignoring Spectra's yelp as Ember's hair nearly scorched her. She 

didn't like this. _Any _of it. But out of shear boredom, Ember decided to risk it and see what their 'master' wanted.

--

It wasn't hard to find him; he was in the same place he usually was, by the large, lightless window in one of the farther corridors. No matter how many times she had seen him there, Ember always found it odd that he, being superior among them, chose _that _room of all places as his 'sanctuary.' She'd wanted to ask him about that originally, but the icy-hollow feeling she got whenever she approached him prevented her from doing so. Though a feeling of detest suddenly struck her, Ember proceeded through the doorway, a scowl slowly etching its way across her pale face. She waited, not quite sure how to address him and tapped her foot against the ground impatiently.

But after minute or two with no response, she took a few steps closer, re-folding her arms and said sharply, "You wanted to see me?"

He said nothing, but turned away from his position at the window, his scarlet eyes falling on her. "I did." He stated, his voice low and strangely calm.

"Well?!" She snapped, shaking off her aggravation at how little he seemed to acknowledge her, "what is it that you want?!"

He, in reply, raised his head slightly, walking forward until he was only a few feet away from her. "What do I want?" he reiterated, his tone sly and foreboding, "I should think that's obvious." By the aggravated look forming on her face as he, the ghost-'leader' sighed, his look flattening. "Oh. You meant 'what do I want with _you_.'"

"Look, am I going to get to kick the ghost-kid's butt or what?!" Ember growled, shifting her weight to one foot. "Because I can just as easily take care of him on my own without your consent, dipstick!"

He nearly choked at her comment as a harsh laugh erupted from his body. "_Take care_ of him? On your _own_?! Please. If you can really do such a thing-then why has every attempt of yours to annihilate him _failed_?" He shook his head, dangerously close to her now. "Don't play games with me, Ember. You know you have no chance of beating him by yourself."

"W-what?!" She tried to protest, but in truth, he had taken the words right from her mouth. "T-then why haven't I done anything yet!? Why am I the only one who hasn't had a chance to participate in your plan?!" She suddenly cried, anger welling up in her chest.

The base of his right eye twitched-a sign he was growing tired of the ghost-girl and her attitude. She, of course, was not aware of it….until she was thrown into the wall by a wave of raw ecto-energy. Ember groaned, her eyes wide and alert. She may have been a ghost, but she could still feel pain, especially if inflicted on her by another deceased being.

"That-you-the…." She sputtered, staggering as she regained her balance. She couldn't place her finger on it, but that wave, at the moment just before it hit her, looked oddly familiar….

"Let's get something straight." He suddenly said, appearing right in her face, "without me, none of you would have had the chance you've wanted to take revenge on Danny Fenton, understand?"

She wanted to shake her head-to deny him, but the cold hard truth was that he was _right_. Frighteningly right.

"Second, I know that ghost-boy better than any of you will ever hope to, and as such, I've been able to analyze the best way to ensure he's…." he paused, his tone suddenly becoming dark, hollow and sinister "….in for an unpleasant _future_." He pulled away from her then, straightening his posture. "Now," he continued, his voice back to its calm and uphasing state, "It's obvious you're annoyed because you think I've forgotten your talents, correct?"

Ember nodded, keeping her mouth shut.

"I see. Well then, it must be a coincidence. That's _exactly_ why I called you here." As he spoke, he began walking back towards the large window, silently beckoning her to follow. She did so cautiously, wondering when and if she'd ever learn her position in his scheme.

"It's strange, isn't it," he mused, gazing out beyond the glass frames, "Skulker, Technus, Spectra: without me they'd never have imagined they'd be able to combine their abilities. Nor did you, I'm sure." He looked at her then, and grinned maliciously.

She felt his gaze, but remained staring at the window panes. "I'm not following your drift, dipstick." She uttered, "where do I come in?"

Something deadly flashed across his face, but only for a moment. "You? _You_ become the trigger-the one who ensures Danny meets his demise. As we speak, Technus is re-modeling your guitar-adding new….gadgets to it."

"He's WHAT-"

"I'm not finished. You see, the serum Skulker injected Danny with has a microscopic trigger in the form of nanites-created by Technus as well. While the intended effects of the original serum take their toll, Danny Fenton will not feel its full effects until _you _step in." He laughed again-this time sounding more like a cackle. "And that foolish boy thought he could defy his fate." His eyes rolled back until they were once again staring out into the Ghost Zone. "Think again.

**Well, **_**that w**_**as certainly an interesting chapter. Who expected me to write as Ember? Because before I had another momentary writer's block, I sure didn't. No, it isn't random. Believe it or not, Ember's role in this fic **_**will **_**increase….**

…**.also, I apologize for the random lines that keep appearing. Honestly, I have no idea how to get rid of them. Any ideas?**

**I wonder….have I given anymore distinct or subtle hints as to who the 'mastermind' is behind this scheme to kill Danny? Anyone know? Anyone? Ah, it doesn't matter-only….time….will tell!!**


	20. success

_I did it! I really did it! _Jazz thought in triumph as she soared through the skies,_ I can't believe it._ After a brief game of cat and mouse with the Box Ghost, she had successfully managed to catch him off guard-landing a blow to his face with her invisible hand. The feeling of contact with her fist to his bluish-gray flesh was remarkably satisfying. Even now, as Jazz reflected on her victory, she was….happy? No….she was absolutely _thrilled_. Her first battle-and she had won. _Well, not quite,_ the girl reminded herself. True, she had beaten the poltergeist physically, however, in her desire to leave her home without her brother's noticing, Jazz had forgotten the Fenton Thermos-the one way to ensure all ghosts were carefully and completely transported back to the Ghost Zone. Having forgotten it, Jazz had no alternative but to let the Box Ghost go free. Something she'd wonder if she'd regret later on. _I'm sure it's no big deal,_ Jazz contemplated, _I mean, it's not like he ever _stays _in the Ghost Zone, anyway._

Something suddenly caught Jazz's eye-something she hadn't noticed due to her submission into her thoughts. Nevertheless, she noticed it _now_. And what she saw nearly made her jaw drop. The sky, having slowly begun growing darker over time, was now filled with bright, vibrant colors, all spread out like a work of art. The vivid pinks, the crisp oranges, even the shady streaks of purple indicating the setting sun filled the ghost-girl's eyes with wonder. Especially because she was flying right in the middle of it.

_Wow…._she thought, in complete awe, _who would have ever imagined a sunset could be so….so…._she gasped, realizing with slight panic that _the sun was already setting_. Which meant she had been out much later than originally intended. Abruptly, she increased the speed of her flight, a _new _goal in mind: to make it back home before the rest of her family noticed she'd gone. And, judging by the colors of the sky and position the sun held in the sky, the chances of that happening, she knew, were next to none.

It hadn't taken too long-a little less than five minutes-before Jazz was hovering over the roof of Fenton Works. Aside from the anxiousness that had been slowly building, Jazz was a little surprised-by the speed she had flown at combined with the distance of her of home, she _should _have been out of breath by now. However, as she had begun to realize, as a ghost, her bodily make-up was somewhat different. Almost as if she weren't even….

Shuddering, Jazz quickly dismissed that thought from her mind, choosing instead to focus on her next objective: Getting into the house unnoticed by the rest of her family. Closing her eyes, Jazz, a little warily, focused hard on the words 'descend.' And, though she couldn't see if she was actually lowering, Jazz could tell by the strange sensation she suddenly felt that she must have been nearing the ground.

With the confirmation of her feet hitting the concrete surface of the sidewalk, Jazz opened her green eyes. Realizing her body was still intact, she smiled, a feeling of accomplishment sweeping through her. But the feeling passed within an instant, as she needed to remain on task. Gazing up at the building she called home, Jazz thought hard on the words 'transparent,' a strange 'unrealness' 

coming over her as her body became see-through. But it worked, and Jazz, taking advantage of the power while she had it, picked up her feet and phased through the front door.

When Jazz first passed through the door and entered the interior beyond it, she half-expected to see her parents, waiting for her-their arms crossed and scornful glares on their faces, much like one typically sees in a movie. However, moments after doing so, she recognized how foolish the thought actually was, and how rarely it happened in the real world. She rolled her eyes, scolding herself for giving herself such an improbable scare. If she were going to continue with this new 'routine' of ghost fighting, Jazz knew she had to learn to control the consistent paranoia that bothered her since acquiring her powers.

"I'm telling you, a ghost's got control of our son!"

Jazz gasped. That was her father's voice. And he sounded _close_. _Great,_ Jazz thought, carefully listening for approaching footsteps, _if he finds me here, I…._

"Now Jack, just because Danny managed to _finish _his homework,_ doesn't_ mean he's being controlled by a ghost."

_Mom, too? _ Jazz grimaced, _oh man…._She noticed then that her parents' voices, as well as their footsteps, were getting closer and closer to her as they continued conversing with each other. And then, she realized that the reason for this must have meant they were walking down the hallway….which passed the doorway where she was now standing in the middle of. _Oh no!_ she cried mentally, eyes widening in fright and alarm, _if mom and dad find me here….like _this_…._

Hastily, Jazz pulled herself together, for what felt like the tenth time that day. If she didn't want her parents to discover her being a ghost, all she had to do was make sure she wasn't one when they found her. So, breathing deeply to calm her wracked nerves, Jazz swiftly thought the words 'change back.'

And not a moment too soon. For the moment her body returned to normal, Jack and Maddie Fenton appeared in the doorway, right in the middle of a heated argument. Jazz held her breath-well aware that interrupting one of said arguments-much less _participating _in them-was a major headache. Especially when one tried to counteract her father's logic.

"I'm telling you, Maddie, Danny doesn't have the incentive to do his work on his own. He's far too lazy for that."

Jazz's mother rolled her violet eyes. "Danny isn't lazy. He's just been busy with community work. You remember what Jazz said, don't you?"

Jack paused, scratching his head. "Community work?" He made a sound like a laugh and a cough forcibly meshed together. "How do we know _Jazz _wasn't under a ghost's control then?! It all sounds extremely coincidental…."

"Oh for the last time, dad. Just because something _different_ happens around here doesn't automatically mean ghosts are involved!" Jazz interjected hotly, before realizing that in doing so she had just entered the very argument she swore she wouldn't.

"Jasmine?" Her father questioned, turning his head in her direction, "What are you doing over there?" Then, adding a bit more defensively, "How much have you heard?!"

The orange-haired girl, completely used to her father's nonsense, placed both hands on her hips. "Despite what you may think, I'm not under a ghost's control." _Although I _have _become one_, she reminded herself, raising her guard slightly. "And neither is Danny." She frowned, eyeing her father. "Really now dad, you can't keep making wild accusations like that!"

"They're not wild accusations-"

"Yes, they are!" Her eyes narrowed, irritation blazing in each pupil. _Rrg,_ she thought in frustration, _dad can be so…._Wait. Did her father just say….? " Danny _finished _his _homework?_" Jazz's jaw nearly dropped. "Really?"

Her mother, who had been watching the verbal exchange between father and daughter, nodded. "Yes dear. He has." She then cast an aggravated look at the graying man before her. "Which is why _your father_ is convinced he's under the control of a _ghost_."

"It's true I tell you!" Jack shrieked, waving a pointed finger at his wife, "why else would he be acting so strangely?!"

Jazz's teeth ground together, and for a moment, her eyes flashed green. " There are a _lot_ of reasons, _dad_." She snarled, rapidly losing her patience as each word passed her lips, _isn't that obvious? _She exhaled, her breath strangled and long. She did _not _want to be dealing with this now. So, she decided to quit the current argument….or else face the 'wrath' of another 'ghostly lecture' by her parents. "_Look,_ I don't know _what _led you to make such outlandish assumptions about my younger brother, but I do know what you _should _do instead…." Jack opened his mouth, about to say something, but Jazz, noticing this, pressed onward with her statement. "….instead of worrying about _ghosts _taking control of Danny, you might want to pay a little more attention to his _health_. He said earlier he might be getting sick, and I'd hate for him to catch some severe disease just because _you _were too busy monitoring whether or not he was being controlled by a ghost!"

Again, she gave her parents-particularly her father- a scolding glare, before assuming a brisk stride towards the kitchen where she last left her raven-haired brother. If Danny had _actually _finished his work like their parents suggested, she wanted to see it for herself.


	21. no more fooling around

He was free._ Free._ From all responsibilities educational as well as ghostly. Soaring through the sky, Danny smiled, realizing that it had been quite a long time since he'd finished all his necessary work for the day. And just as equally, he had forgotten what it felt like to be temporarily relieved from stress.

"Huh," he mused, laughing to himself, "Guess I'm not as unlucky as I thought." He shook his head, grateful the majority of his afterschool time _wasn't _for once, wasted by tracking down and battling ghosts. _Although, it _is_ kind of odd, _he thought, mind beginning to drift, _what are the chances of…._

"Danny!"

Though in mid-air, the ghost-boy skidded to a stop. "W-what?"

"Down here!"

He followed the direction of the chorused voice with his eyes, taking its hint and looking directly below him. He was slightly surprised, however, to see both Sam and Tucker staring up at him, and wondered further why he hadn't recognized their voices when they called out to him. Shrugging it off, Danny immediately changed directions, flying towards the ground in order to meet up with his two best friends. "Sam? Tucker? What are you doing here?" He asked.

Sam cast her friend a look, while Tucker raised an eyebrow. "I could ask you the same question," he retaliated, "I thought you said you were gonna be tied up after school with work."

The confused expression Danny was wearing morphed into a triumphant grin. "I finished it earlier."

"Really?" Sam piped up, tired of letting the two boys converse without her, "there were no….er….interruptions?"

The ghost-boy shook his head. "Nope. Weird, huh?"

Both friends nodded.

"I'll say," Sam agreed, folding her arms.

"Yeah," Tucker added, "Usually there's always a ghost after you."

Danny laughed again. "I know." He raised his arms, garbed in black and white, over his head to stretch. "And….since I now have some extra time, you guys wanna hang out or…."

Danny's words were cut off as a sudden wisp of blue smoke escaped through his mouth. He sighed, face contorting into a look of pain. "Aw man," he whined, whirling around, "you have _got _to be kidding me!" Letting out a groan, Danny's body shifted position into a fighting stance, his green eyes darting about wildly, looking for the ghost that had triggered his ghost-sense.

He didn't have to wait too long, for after ten seconds or so, his ghost-sense went off again and he turned, just in time to see a large multicolored ecto-ray spiraling towards him from above. With a 

minor shriek, the ghost-boy quickly moved out of harm's way. Looking up in the direction the ray had come, he suddenly noticed a pale, blue-haired girl wielding a guitar floating in the air.

"_Ember." _He growled, narrowing his green pupils.

She smirked, apparently having heard him. "Hey _dipstick_." The girl replied, her tone icy and sinister, "it's been awhile."

_Maybe, but not long enough,_ the halfa-boy thought miserably, irritation slowly building. "What do you want, Ember?"

"What do _I _want?" She echoed, in mock-surprise, "the same thing _every _ghost in the Ghost Zone wants, dipstick: to see you _destroyed_." She paused, waiting to see if her answer had sunken in. However, she grew tired of this-delay had never been her policy-so she assumed conversation. "And now, thanks to a few…._adjustments _to my guitar, I'm gonna see that your life _does _in fact, come to an end!"

She laughed, which threw Danny off-guard. As far as he could remember, Ember rarely expressed her 'ghostly motivation' in the form of an evil cackle. However, he _did _remember _one _thing: and that was that-no matter how many times she tried in the past-Ember's plans of world domination or revenge were _always _thwarted….one way or another. So the fact that she had the nerve to boast such an outrageous plot in his face _really _got on his nerves.

Wanting to end this quickly, Danny shot off the ground and into the sky, so that he was on the same playing field as the blue-haired girl. Muttering an apology to his two friends, he then focused his attention on Ember, his brows furrowing deeper into his forehead. "I can't believe this," he groaned, clenching his hands into fists, "I _finally _get some time off and _this _is how I have to spend it." His teeth ground together-hands beginning to glow with ecto-energy. Ember noticed this, but remained unphased, her hand instead casually finding its way to her guitar.

"It's too bad you're not in the mood." She ridiculed, not caring in the least how the boy was actually feeling, "so it looks like I'll just get to the point." Then, moving so fast Danny almost missed it, Ember turned a dial on her guitar….one the ghost-boy had never seen before.

"So you've added to it." He commented, still annoyed, ""what, you think that's gonna make a difference?" He began flying towards her, but stopped when he noticed her hand hovering dangerously over the strings of her instrument.

"Oh no," Ember corrected, "This time, I _know_ it's gonna make a difference." With one swift movement, her hand strummed across the strings, and from it, the same multicolored ray as before sprang out towards him.

"AGH!" Danny cried, narrowly missing a dead-on hit as he flew out of harm's way. "What was that?!" He'd never seen a beam like _that_ before. Usually, an ecto-blast of any sort remained one color; or one variation of a color. But this one seemed to be a fusion of _multiple _colors-all different shades of 

red, black and gold; streaks of magenta swirling through it. Danny didn't know and didn't _want _to know what an ecto-ray like _that _could do, nor did he want to find out what it _felt _like to get hit by it. Eyes widening a little, Danny carefully backed away. If he wanted to avoid being hit, he needed to beat Ember down as fast as possible. And in order to do that, he'd have to use a powerful-and long distance-attack.

"Look, it's _great_ you think you've found a way to….how'd you put it…._destroy_ me, but I _don't _have the _time or _the _patience _right now to deal with you-nor do I _want _to. So if you don't mind, I'm going to end this. Now!" As he'd been talking, Danny had slowly allowed ecto-energy to build in his throat, and at the word '_now'_ he expelled it from his vocal chords, projecting the energy as a high-pitched shriek. His Ghostly wail.

As the supersonic waves hurled towards Ember, she let out a cry, and made an attempt to evade Danny's attack. _Oh no you don't!_ He thought vigorously, increasing the force as he pushed the Ghostly wail from his throat. Ember, unlike many other of his enemies, may not have _looked _as menacing physically, but Danny knew well enough that if he dared underestimate her motives, a battle with the blue-haired girl could get ugly fast. Something he wanted to be sure he avoided.

However, Ember, as usual, had other plans. Though she had narrowly dodged being struck by the Ghostly wail, after witnessing it, she was able to make an assumption that getting by something with that much power was going to _hurt_. And as was the case, she was well aware that she couldn't afford coming in contact with Danny's attack. Not _yet_ anyway. "Sorry _dipstick_, she hollered over the supersonic waves, "but I don't have time to play this little game." Never taking her eyes off him, Ember's fiery hair began to grow and twist around her body, until it engulfed her entirely. After a moment or two, the swirling flames and the girl they covered disappeared entirely.

Danny, who up until this point had been focusing solely on maintaining his Ghostly wail, snapped into attention as soon as Ember vanished. He froze, abruptly closing his mouth. Losing sight of his opponent-never a good thing. Now on edge, Danny whipped around, frantically searching to see if he could find where she might re-appear. If she re-appeared at all, that is. Heck, for all the halfa-boy knew, Ember may have decided to….

"Behind you."

"What-?!" Danny jumped, frighteningly aware of Ember's voice coming from the back of him. "How did you….why didn't.…I….." He knew that, as a ghost, Ember could teleport from place to place at will-_that _was no surprise. But what he _didn't _understand was why his ghost-sense hadn't alerted him of her return. He grunted, mentally cursing his luck as he turned to face his enemy, but stopped halfway when he noticed how dangerously close her hand was to the new dial on her guitar.

Down below, Sam, who had been watching the battle between both ghosts, glanced nervously at Tucker. "I don't know about you, but I have a _really_ bad feeling about this." She waited for a minute or two for her friend to respond, which he did with a nod, before her violet pupils shifted back towards the sky.

Danny shook both fists in frustration, sweat rolling down the sides of his face. Even by using one of his strongest attacks, Ember had managed to avoid it-leaving her free of damage and him exposed and weakening. The Ghostly wail may have no longer drained his energy fully, but it still left him somewhat weakened. His brow pressed deep into his forehead, and his green eyes narrowed. He had to end this, and he needed to do it quickly. Thrusting both hands to his sides, he glared at the girl before him. "I'm really not in the mood to deal with you, okay? So just….just…." As he spoke, ecto-energy began to glow around both appendages, swirling in a circular motion until it reached the palm of each hand. All Danny needed to do was fire two blasts at Ember and _hit_ her with them; if _that_ was accomplished, she'd be stunned long enough for him to whip out the Fenton Thermos and….

It happened so fast, Danny wasn't sure if he had even _seen _the movement, but before his own ecto-energy had finished forming into a stable substance, Ember's gloved hand had switched the dial on her guitar and strummed across its strings. Instantly he thrust his hands forward, preparing to hurl the energy at his opponent. However, his hands had only gotten about halfway out in front when a wave of red, gold, black and magenta swept through his body.

At first, he felt nothing-in fact, Danny wondered if Ember's attack had been nothing more than a bluff. He almost wanted to laugh, thinking about how seriously he had taken her before; and how seriously she had acted too. _Wow,_ he thought, dropping his earlier grim expression _maybe I was…._

He never finished his sentence. For at that moment, he screamed. Fire. His body was on _fire_. Or at least, he _felt _like it was, as each area suddenly burned with a sharp, stinging pain. His hands, which no longer possessed spheres of ecto-energy, began twitching in unruly directions as his arms jerked behind him. A similar action was mirrored by his legs and feet, jolting back and forth in jagged movements. He strained, trying to stop, trying to control himself….but as he did so, the ghost-boy realized fearfully that he _had_ no control, the signals from his brain somehow becoming blocked. He turned his head, looking at Ember with a frantic, questioning look in his now-tearing pupils. _What did you do to me?!_ He shrieked inwardly, jaw forced shut as his face contorted in pain. Ember said nothing, but her green eyes met Danny's, a haunting look blazing in each one. She floated over to him, her expression dark and sinister.

"Told you I wasn't playing this time." She whispered, a fatal smile crawling across her pale face.

That smile sent a chill down Danny's spine. She _was _being serious after all. _E-Ember_….he thought angrily, fighting to regain composure. He didn't understand. How, after all this time, did she manage to _hurt_ him like this. It didn't make _sense_. But as he attempted to shoot a glare at his enemy, the same disorientation he'd felt earlier once again overtook him.

And then….when he thought things couldn't get any worse, two white rings formed around him….and he transformed _back_ into a regular human teenager.

Ember laughed, obviously enjoying her enemy's confusion and suffering, as Danny, now terrified, began falling at a rapid pace towards the ground below. _What's going on?!_ He screamed inwardly, trying to stay focused, _What's happening?!_ He shook his head, the fall somehow granting him subtle control of his still aching body. _Come on…._he pleaded, glancing to the approaching earth, _change back…._

The rings appeared, faintly, and once again, Danny became a teenage ghost. But it wasn't enough, for just as quickly as they appeared, both glowing white rings faded away, providing no comfort for the ghost boy as he plummeted towards the ground.

Sam noticed him first. Eyes widening, she yanked Tucker's arm, pointing to the sky with her other free one. "TUCKER WE HAVE TO DO SOMETHING!" The goth girl cried, "if Danny crashes after a fall like that, he could _die_!"

"I know!" Tucker, equally panicked, replied, but what can we…."

At that moment, Ember made yet another move, this one more for her _personal enjoyment_. Flying right at Danny in a burst of speed, she raised her guitar up over her head, aimed, and swung. A loud SMACK was heard as the metal of the instrument came in contact with the flesh of the boy.

"DANNY!" both his friends chorused frenetically, the two still thinking how and if they could find a way to help him. Their options, they knew, were low. Neither of them had ghostly abilities _or _a device to break his fall. They were out of luck….

….and out of time….

"ARGH!" With an excruciating crash, Danny finally landed, making hard contact with the earth as he did so. It hurt. _Everything_ hurt. But whether it was as a result from the fall or Ember's ecto-ray, he couldn't tell. As it was, he was just surprised he wasn't dead, if one could call his current condition _alive, _however.

"DANNY! Danny you're okay!"

"S-sam? Tucker?" The words were foggy, and he wasn't sure he'd even heard them, but the sight of his two best friends running towards him ensured him he had.

"Man, you look aweful." Tucker commented, his tone both worried and sympathetic. Danny nodded, the winced due to the twinge of pain that followed.

"I've had….I've had better days." He replied, struggling to prop himself up with his arms.

"How…." Sam started, taken aback by the boy's condition…."how did you survive that fall?"

Danny made an effort to shrug, but ceased the action at the sudden throbbing in his shoulders.

"I don't know….I thought for sure…." Truth be told the boy had no idea _why _colliding with the ground hadn't killed him; the drop had been a full one, from a dangerously high level. The only explanation would have to have been something interfering with the fall-absorbing some of the speed and slowing his pace, but there wasn't….Hang on. He _had _collided with something…. "Ember's guitar."

"Huh?"

"Ember's _guitar_. When it hit me…."

Sam brightened, odd for the dismal situation. "I get it! When Ember attacked you as you were falling, her guitar must have broken your fall….sort of anyway."

"That would make sense." Tucker piped up, raising a finger in thought, "hm. Who would have thought her causing you pain would end up saving your life?"

Danny's blue eyes rolled. "Yeah. Who would have thought it." As he spoke, he once again made an attempt to rise, gritting his teeth as he struggled to sit up.

"Whoa whoa, _hold on_." Sam interrupted, rushing forward to help her friend. "You need to take it easy. You're in _no _condition to strain yourself any further."

"B-but….Ember…."

Sam shook her head, while Tucker pointed a scolding finger at him. "Sam's right, Danny. Ember beat you down pretty bad." He paused, and a thoughtful looked passed over his face. "You know, it's kind of sad," he said after a few seconds or so, "Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."

In perfect time with one another, Sam and Danny gave Tucker an "I-can't-believe-you-just-said-that" look.

"What?" The boy asked, wondering why his friends had reacted the way they had.

For the second time, Sam shook her head. "Nothing, nothing. Just….get over here and help me with Danny."

Tucker shrugged, making his way over to the two.

...No one noticed the blue-haired girl floating high above them. Nor did they notice the shocked expression on her pale, ghostly face.


	22. starting to understand

**Hey everyone! Remember me? Yep it sure has been a while, huh? All I can say is, I'm back now, with the hope of overcoming recent writer's block and finishing this fic!**

It was now eleven o'clock at night, and Jazz, via a lamp on her desk and the moonlight pouring in from her opened window, was scribbling away, hastily trying to finish her homework. Her ecstatic mood from her victory over the box ghost and the discovery at Danny finishing his homework had long drained-instead replaced by the desire to finish her _own _homework and go to bed.

She yawned, not bothering to cover her mouth, and dropped the pencil she'd been holding-a hand cramp getting the best of her. Today had been one of the longest and hardest days she'd ever experienced, and she had a feeling it wasn't only because of her ghost powers, although they _did _contribute to her fatigue. It was the responsibilities. The new-found duty that had been forcibly placed on her shoulders by her own hand, causing a newfound paranoia to form. She not only had to keep an eye out for bigger and badder ghosts, but ordinary people as well, including her parents.

_And of course, let's not forget Danny, s_he thought drearily, flopping down on her desk and resting her head on her folded arms. Danny….She couldn't stop thinking about the way she used to treat him, even after she learned his secret. Now that she was on the other end, being half-ghost herself, she was starting to understand the daily stress her brother had to endure, and how she, prior to her…._decision_...could never fully comprehend his life, his responsibilities….until now, that is. _Well, as best I can, anyway, _Jazz corrected, _considering I've only had my powers for a day_.

After a moment or two more, Jazz sat up, reminding herself she still needed to finish her homework. Raising both arms to stretch and wake herself up, she suddenly remembered something. Something she had yet to understand. When she had arrived home after her first battle, Danny's work had been completed, and he had gone out. Originally Jazz believed this was because her brother had finally acquired some free time, and went to meet Tucker and Sam, however, when he_ had_ finally come home, Jazz discovered she had only been partially correct. The condition she had found her brother in upon opening the front door was not at all what she was expecting to see. Supported heavily by his two friends, Danny stood somewhat feebly in front of his sister, one eye swollen and breathing heavily. There were a number of cuts and bruises decorating his body, more than half of which still shone of fresh blood. A gash stretched across his back and a quarter around his mid-section, where he had apparently been "struck with a guitar, and then hit against when he crashed into the ground." Thankfully he hadn't broken anything, nevertheless, she had reacted strongly, close to panicking as she examined her beaten brother, and practically demanding for him to tell her what happened.

Of course, when _he_ finally did speak, a sick,_ foreboding _feeling formed in the pit of her stomach, something that hadn't happened before. She had seen Danny get hurt many times-after all, he'd been a half-ghost for over a year. And true, she'd been worried about him before. But this time, when she looked at him, she could see not only her brother, but _herself_ as the weary, battered and defeated phantom-teenager. However, she had shaken it off for fear of future doubts from turning herself into a ghost. Yet, in doing so, Jazz inadvertently noticed something _else_ about her brother that she had only 

seen one other time-yesterday afternoon. That same worn, emotionless look displayed in each of his blue pupils, giving them a glazy appearance. So shallow, so empty, so…._lifeless_. It wasn't like Danny at all. At least, not the old Danny.

_Oh for goodness sake, Jazz,_ she scolded inwardly, _now you're just being ridiculous! There's nothing wrong with your little brother. He's just had a….rough day._ She sighed then, her shoulders mildly sagging. Who was she trying to fool ? Not even _she_ believed that Danny was all right, despite his forceful protests against seeking medical attention. _Still_, she continued to herself, _he _did _mention something about getting sick earlier….and I'm pretty sure these physical wounds aren't going to help his immune system in any way._

Jazz yawned again as she finished her 'analysis' and glanced over at the clock perched on nightstand. She gasped. 11:30. "And with two more math sheets to go…." She moaned quietly so as not to wake the rest of her family. Shaking her head, her eyebrows creased, and she feverishly refocused her attention to the remainder of her homework, putting an end to her nightly monologues. She may have been half-ghost now, but that didn't enable her to function at school with a minimal six hour sleep.


	23. sick?

Maybe it was the overriding sense of liability, maybe it was his partially shaken nerves, or maybe it was the smell of burnt pancakes coming from the kitchen below. Whatever it was, it had to be a pretty strong reason for Danny Fenton to even think about hauling his aching body out of bed the next morning. He winced, not only at the thought but at the pool of sunlight flooding his bedroom as he slowly opened his eyes….noticing, for some reason, that everything looked blurry. Blinking several times before his vision cleared, Danny gradually and painfully sat up, his muscles twinging as he did so.

_Perfect,_ the boy thought bitterly, scratching his head as he cursed at his inability to move without hurting, _just perfect_. _Beginning of the day and I already feel like a piece of crap._ He groaned, knowing at some point he'd eventually _have_ to get up, despite his current condition. So, clenching his teeth in preparation for the worst, Danny swung his legs over the edge of the bed, and stood up. Aside from the severe ache in his muscles, he didn't feel all that bad, certainly no worse than he had while lying down. Letting out a small sigh of relief, he proceeded to his dresser, the only thing on his mind being: how quickly he could get through the day and how quickly he could come back home. Taking the first step by raising his foot, as he normally did, Danny was ready for an extremely sore and very long day….

…………unfortunately, sudden and unexplained dizziness hadn't been taken into account.

"Aaaah!" Danny shrieked, unprepared for the unbalanced sensation that rushed over him the minute his foot left the ground. Hastily, he replanted his appendage, arms flailing wildly in order to regain balance as he did so. He hadn't seen that coming….though there did seem to be something familiar about it…._It….it's like yesterday,_ the boy realized, breathing heavily from the shock of the disorientation. _On the way to lunch…._ His thoughts immediately cut off as a sharp hacking cough suddenly racked his body, sending him once again into another spout of dizziness….only this time it was accompanied by an impulsive throbbing in his head. Hands shooting up to clutch at the pain disrupted what little stability Danny had regained, and an instant later he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

Originally on his side, Danny rolled over onto his back to prevent from crushing his already stinging arm. "I knew this was a bad idea," he muttered, surprised at the faintness of his voice as he stared up at the ceiling distastefully. "Hardly out of bed and already I've gotten myself into trouble."

He most likely would have continued looking blatently above him, but a feminine voice outside his bedroom door caught his attention.

"Danny, Tucker and Sam are outside waiting for you!" a female who could only be his sister called. The raven-haired boy jumped, suddenly hastily struggling to pull himself up. Sam and Tucker. He had forgotten the three of them were walking to school today.

"I know I know I'm sorry! Tell them I'll be right down!" He replied, struck odd by his unusually weak voice. Jazz, apparently, also picked up on it.

"Danny?" She asked, worry etched in her tone, "Are you okay in there?"

Now on his knees, the halfa-boy faced the last task of trying to bring himself to his feet. "Yeah, yeah I'm fine" He called back, straining a little to project his oddly quiet voice, "just….uh…._tripped_ is all."

He was standing upright again, and also listening intently for a response from his sister. However, when he heard nothing, the boy could only assume she was planning on entering his room-something he did not want to happen. Deciding to make a run for the door and lock it until he could sort this matter out-and quickly as well- he took off, propelling himself on each foot as he attempted to stop Jazz from entering. As he neared his goal, Danny shoved his hand out in front, reaching for the door knob…..but another stabbing cough made him drop his hand, using it instead to cover his mouth. His shoulders hunched, his eyes closed, and his body shaking from force, this was how Jazz Fenton found her brother when she had, in fact, opened the door.

"Oh my gosh, Danny you sound awful!" the orange-haired girl cried, putting her arms around her brother. Danny raised his head, and she gasped slightly, "you _look_ awfultoo." She added bluntly, looking at him with concern and minor disgust.

Irritated, as usual, with her good intent, Danny shook himself free of Jazz's grasp. "I'm fine, okay, Jazz?" he snapped, leaning heavily to one side, "Just a little sore from yesterday." He reached for the door, muttering something about having to get dressed, but his sister stopped him, catching his wrist.

"Danny, I'm not stupid," she huffed, shaking her free hand at him, "You've obviously come down with something, but are too stubborn to admit it, aren't you?"

Now clearly annoyed, Danny opened his mouth to protest, but was stopped as his ghost sense suddenly spewed from his throat. Frantically, he whirled around, cringing as the action made his head spin. A ghost this early in the morning? He scowled. Yet, as his eyes darted around the room, he saw nothing. Nor did he hear anything, ruling out the fact that if there was a ghost, they were currently invisible, waiting for just the right moment before a surprise attack.

"Well that's odd." He stated, casting a glance over at Jazz.

She shrugged, "I guess….whoever it was….must've gotten away." Something seemed….different in his sister's aqua-colored eyes as she said this, which only intrigued the ghost-boy. But either she noticed his odd stare or he had imagined ever seeing anything at all, for Jazz continued to speak. "It's a good thing, this time you know? I mean with you being sick you probably wouldn't have been much of a match for the ghost anyway."

"I never said I was sick." Danny informed, straightening, "and even if I was….I'm stronger than half if not all of the ghosts currently in the Ghost Zone-I could take them, no problem." With that as his final statement, Danny willed his arm transparent, freeing himself from his sister's hold, stepped back, and shut the door.

**I only started to realize this a while ago, thinks to a friend pointing it out, but I seem to have taken a liking to 'angsty' Danny. I don't know why, typically I don't really like characters like that….unless of course I warp their personalities. As I've done with Danny. Ah well, if he weren't the way he is in this fic, I think the story/plot would be a bit lacking. Even if he occasionally acts like a jerk XD**


	24. the final step

He'd been feeling it for some time now. Slowly at first, hardly noticeable, unless one focused intently on it without interruption. However, recently, he'd been noticing the rapid spike it had been taking, filling him with a sense of sick pleasure as he felt it pulse through his ghostly body at an increasing rate. His power was returning.

His….associates….had noticed it too, as a swift adjustment to their behavior had been made. They all sensed how dangerous he was becoming, even if they still didn't know who he was. Of course, he had no intention of telling them….not yet anyway. Besides, he had a feeling they'd find out on their own soon enough. He would just have to hold his tongue about his identity until they did.

For when they did, he was sure his motives as a leader would be questioned, as would his plans against the ghost boy. However, by the time that happened, it would be too late-nothing they could do, even if they all banded together to try to stop him. He laughed, attempting to picture their efforts against him. Ember, Technus, Skulker, Spectra-four against one, and their efforts would still be futile.

Shaking his head, he rose into the air-he'd taken up flying again, now that he had the energy to do so-and proceeded down the hallway, ready to give out his next order of business. There was one last step to initiate before his plan was complete, and he wanted it done and over with. _After all,_ he concluded inwardly, approaching his pronounced meeting hall, _with this final step, I can finally remove these idiots from my sight…. _he paused for a minute, having reached the doorway, before adding, _and ensure my future._

--

"As you know," He began, having rounded up the four ghosts now seated in front of him, "You all have played a significant role in my plan to eliminate Danny Fenton, which has, so far, been going quite well." He waited to see if they would respond, his scarlet eyes scanning each individual. However, intimidation had gotten the better of them, as each ghost kept their mouths shut.

He smiled darkly, and proceeded, "both phases one and two have been successfully completed, which leaves me with one last task to instigate." Raising a gloved hand eyelevel with himself, he curled it into a fist. "Go back into the human world and wear him down." He alleged, his voice dripping with vigor.

They looked at him, silenced by fear but nevertheless confused. Finally, Spectra, who had, to his annoyance, seemingly dubbed herself his own personal 'kiss up,' stuttered, "w-what….what do you mean...by that….exactly?"

Not the answer he was hoping for. Keeping his temper in check, he sighed, two tones away from growling. With his power back, he could easily kill them all right now-unlike himself, they were only the remains of the people they used to be when still alive. However, with them gone, he'd run the risk of exposing himself to the boy, and at this stage in the game, he didn't think it a wise choice. Like it or not, he still required assistance. So instead he settled on elaborating. "Danny Fenton is so far unaware of what we've done to him, and naïve as he is, it will probably stay that way." He glanced at 

them to see if they were following so far, then went on, "you all played a part-you all know what will eventually happen to him." He reminded, "But to ensure our victory, we can't allow for the possible chance of him actually figuring out our plan." He moved his hands behind his back, hovering closer to the group, the smile on his face contorting into a twisted grin. "This is why I need you to wear him down-to strain his body, both ghost _and _human, to the limit." A cold laugh erupted from his throat then, his eyes glowing sadistically. "We attack him from all sides-front, back, outside and in. Show that foolish child no mercy."

He turned away from the four poltergeists then, having finished his speech, his crimson pupils narrowing. He was so close. Much closer than he'd ever dreamt possible. One thing left. That's all there was. Just one thing left to do.


	25. second day, different problems

For as long as Jazz could remember, she had always enjoyed going to school. English, science, math and especially history; she loved learning the subjects and meeting the challenges they had to offer. Perhaps that was why she had soared above her students starting at a young age. Brain power was all she had-it was her gift, her ticket to success, and being the girl she was, Jazz had no shame in using it on a daily basis. Unlike some students, she took her education very seriously. There was no time for slacking in the rule book of Jazz Fenton. Besides, she thought school was fun.

….she _thought_ school was fun. However, now as her eyes cast frequent glances at the clock, Jazz, for the first time in her life, found school to be, well,_ actually a chore_. The text books, the materials, the teachers who asked never ending questions....It was all a blur in her mind; the only thing she could focus on was her ghost powers, and when and if she would lose control of them again. Not to mention waiting to see if she'd quickly have to spring into action upon the sudden activation of her ghost sense. She hoped so anyway; after seeing Danny's condition this morning, Jazz wanted to ensure she'd be able to….

"Miss Fenton!"

Jazz flinched, the gruff voice of her teacher snapping the ghost girl from her thoughts. "H-huh? Yes?" She alleged automatically, meeting her teacher's stern gaze.

"The _homework_, Miss Fenton." Her teacher repeated, crossing arms, " What was your opinion on the final question of the homework last night?"

_Uh-oh, _ Jazz thought, gritting her teeth. She'd temporarily forgotten she'd fallen asleep while finishing a review sheet that she had found stuck to her last math page last night.

"Jasmine, we're all waiting for your answer," The teacher reminded, tapping her foot impatiently.

The orange-haired girl gulped, beads of sweat forming on her forehead. _I-it's no big deal, right? Lots of students don't complete their homework. It happens all the time. Nothing t-to worry about._ But as these thoughts ran through Jazz's head, she knew, that for _her_, it _was_,in fact, something to worry about. She had had a perfect record since elementary school, a model student. Meaning everyone's expectations of her were high. So if she, a girl with a straight A average, failed to finish an assignment, the reaction of her teachers would be much more severe. Unfortunately, there was no way Jazz could avoid the upcoming situation without causing suspicion. Thus, taking a deep breath, she answered warily, "U-um, actually….I didn't finish the worksheet…."

Silence. Complete and utter silence. No one said a word, no one moved. All eyes were on the orange-haired girl. All thoughts focused on processing her shocking statement. Finally, her teacher, eyes bulging, alleged very slowly, "_What_ did you just say, Miss _Fenton_?"

Feeling uncomfortable under the gazes of so many students, Jazz's face flushed. "I….said," she reiterated, forcing herself to act as a common teenager would in such a situation, "that I didn't finish my homework last night." Then, seeing the look on her teacher's face, added, "I'm sorry." And truthfully, she was.

Thankfully, the teacher seemed to notice it, whether in was because of the tone in Jazz's voice, or the apologetic look the girl had plastered on her face, for the professor merely exhaled sharply and cautioned, "Well….don't let it happen again. You don't want any foul marks tainting that perfect record of yours, now do you?"

"Of course not," Jazz agreed quickly, anxious to change subjects, due to the amount of now jealous glares from the rest of the class. Glancing down at her desk, embarrassed, she wondered if Danny was having a better time at school than she was.

* * *

Danny groaned, chin resting in his hand. He was not having a good time. That wasn't saying much-school had never been high on his list of 'favorite pastimes.' But today was different. It was the first time in a long time he had come to school feeling completely miserable. He was exhausted, sore, and, though he had denied it around his sister, was starting to believe he was in fact, coming down with something. Of course, the boy would never admit it-becoming Amity Park's local ghost 'protector' had boosted his pride and his limitations; he was their hero, an unbeatable force that was already ready to spring into action against any ghosts that may be terrorizing the citizens. As such, he couldn't afford for weakness, especially because there was no one else around to assist him. Nevertheless, that didn't stop anyone else from noticing something was wrong.

"Danny!" Sam whispered from the desk behind, an eyebrow raised "are you _sure_ you're alright?"

The boy sighed, exasperated. "_Yes_, Sam." He spat back through a rasped whisper, "I'm fine! Just like I was this morning!"

The Goth girl cast her friend an unconvinced look. "You don't _sound_ fine." She protested, her violet eyes narrowing.

"And you sure as heck didn't on our way to school either." Tucker added, turning sideways in his seat.

He knew they were trying to help, he really did, but years of living with an overprotective sister had worn his patience of peoples' continual worry for his well-being. "Look, guys," he uttered with annoyance, "I appreciate the concern, but would you stop worrying? I can-" Danny's words cut abruptly as he broke into a fit of harsh coughing. Both his friends exchanged nervous looks, first at the boy then at each other, while Danny shakily brought both hands to his mouth, attempting to muffle his sudden hacking.

Alas, his attempt didn't exactly work.

"Mister Fenton," Lancer questioned, raising his voice to be heard over the boy, "is there a problem?"

All three friends looked up, Danny shutting his mouth, nearly choking in preventing himself from coughing yet again. "E-er, no sir." He offered, surprised with how little volume his voice had. He smiled sheepishly, hoping his teacher would buy it and leave him alone.

However, Lancer wasn't as dumb as the student body assumed him to be, and he frowned. "If by nothing you mean rudely interrupting my class with your unruly outbursts then yes, Mister Fenton, you are correct." The older man raised a hairy eyebrow, his expression flattening.

"Those weren't 'unruly outbursts.'" Sam piped up, meeting Lancer's cross look, "Danny was just coughing."

"Well, his so called _coughing_ sounds like something being cut in two with a malfunctioning chainsaw." Lancer shot back, edge coating his response. "And that voice of his sounds unusually weak as well." Now turning his attention to the Fenton boy, Lancer cracked a smirk, the kind only worn when one comes to a conclusion. "Could it be you're _sick_, Mister Fenton?"

"What, no!" Danny barked, his jaw muscles tightening. Once again, there was someone 'concerned for his well-being.' The difference was, with Lancer, the only reason he was ever remotely interested in this students' health was if it affected his reputation or teaching. Something that bothered the ghost-boy even more than his sister or friends worrying.

"Well now, I think the _nurse_ would beg to differ with you."

_The nurse? _Danny thought, despising each moment of the situation, _oh great._ "I told you Mister Lancer, I'm not-"

"Go."

"But-"

"Now!" His teacher demanded, pointing swiftly to the classroom door. Clamping his teeth together, the raven-haired boy's eyes darted angrily towards his friends before he rose, staggered slightly, and removed himself from his desk. Stomping rather unsteadily towards the front of the room, Danny reached out with his hand and tore the note Lancer was holding, excusing the boy from class to visit the nurse. _I'm not sick,_ he told himself, passing through the door and into the hallway, _I can't be_.

* * *

Jazz was still annoyed, there was no denying that. Ever since admitting she hadn't finished her work, the other students had started, every so often, to make little remarks behind her back-literally-during class, just loud enough for her to hear. She'd done her best to ignore them, after all 'sticks and stones,' and besides, Jazz wasn't the kind of girl to be bothered by teasing. However, what _did _irritate her was the blatant fact that the class was unaware of her reasons for not finishing her homework. If they_ were_, she knew she'd be spared this inconsiderate nonsense. Of course, there would be new problems she'd have to deal with, not to mention a whole new kind of public view. Something she most certainly did _not_ want to experience.

Thinking about possible future situations was enough the make the girl's eyes flash green, but thankfully, she was still staring at her desk, so no one caught it. What she didn't expect was for a familiar blue wisp of smoke to escape her mouth. Her ghost sense. Gasping with anticipation and determination, she thought, _well, here goes nothing. _

Eyebrows creasing, Jazz knew what she had to do. Without second thought, her hand shot up. "May I be excused?" She uttered swiftly, trying to hide the anxiousness in her voice. Her teacher paused, looked at the girl, and for a second Jazz feared she wouldn't be allowed to leave. "I, uh, have to use the bathroom." She added, just to be safe. Thankfully, the adult shrugged, nodding subtly in order to continue the lesson Jazz had briefly interrupted. A wave of relief passed through the girl and she smiled, returning her teacher's nod and making a speedy retreat from the classroom. A few snide remarks followed her out, but Jazz paid them no heed. She had much more important things in mind.

* * *

Stumbling a little as he walked, Danny Fenton gradually and reluctantly made his way down the hall. He hated this. Being ordered by a superior, let alone Lancer, to do something against his will, really ticked him off. Of course, given recent events, a lot of things had been getting on his nerves lately-his failing grades, both his sister's and friends' desire to help him, Skulker's….warning, and of course, how his health seemed to be on the ill side. He didn't understand how so many problems could happen at once; it was overwhelming. Yet somehow, he should have known he'd be the one with the bad luck. He usually was.

_Well,_ he thought, rubbing his head, _at least things can't get any worse…._

Suddenly, his throat felt unusually cold, as the wispy strand of smoke that was his ghost sense floated out of his mouth. Danny watched it spiral forward, then disappear, his face falling. _Aaaaand….I was wrong_.

* * *

Her breath slightly laden, Jazz sprinted down the hall, eyes frantically searching for a certain small deserted area she could transform without revealing her secret. When she told her teacher she had to go to the bathroom, she'd been telling the truth; except her reason for doing so was simply because, out of anywhere in the school, Jazz knew there were only two places a girl could have some privacy were the girls' locker room, and the girls' bathroom. In this case, the bathroom was closer.

_Ah ha! _She thought, brightening as she skidded around the corner, _there it is! Just ten seconds from now and I'll be flying around battling-_"AGHHHH!" Suddenly having to come to an abrupt halt, Jazz nearly missed colliding into her brother, who caught her off guard as he too, rounded the corner from the other side.

"D-Danny?" Jazz sputtered, surprised with his unexpected appearance. "What....what are you doing here?"

He looked at her, a rhetorical look on his face. "Do you hafta ask?"

Uh oh. She had a bad feeling about where this was going. "A….a ghost?" She questioned, though the answer was obvious.

"Sorry Jazz, no time." Danny replied hastily, brushing off his sister, "I've got to take care of this _and_ get down to the nurse's office before Lancer notices I've been gone too long."

"The nurse's-"

"Bye!" Still in human form, the boy turned invisible and took off, the only clue being the sound of his footsteps against the floor. Jazz sighed, slapping her forehead. Things were starting to get complicated.

_Just stay calm, Jazz,_ she told herself, rushing into the bathroom, _you can handle this_. Her hands clenching into fists, Jazz stated firmly "I'm going ghost." On cue, two glowing rings engulfed her, and soon her normal, teenage body was replaced by her white-haired, green-eyed ghostly one. "Well," she muttered, "here we go again." Furrowing her brow, Jazz focused hard on the word '_fly_,' propelling herself upward as her body also became transparent upon command. The girl was no fool; she could see her brother couldn't deal with this right now, despite his protests. As was the case, Jazz needed to make sure that whoever said ghost was, she got to them before Danny did.


	26. another call to action

Following her ghost sense, which had been activating frequently, Jazz flew into Casper High's courtyard. "huh." She speculated, lowering herself to a hover, "didn't think I'd find a ghost _here._"

"And yet, _I _expected to find _you_ here. What are the odds?"

Jazz cringed. She recognized the voice coming from above. Shooting her eyes upwards, the ghost girl bared her teeth. "_Technus_." She grumbled, tensing as her green eyes fell on the technological ghost. He, upon hearing her, grinned with pleasure.

"Ah. Yes! It is I, _Technus_, master of technology! Nice to see you remember me, ghost child." He mused, mockery in every world. Jazz grimaced, not fond of being ridiculed, and flew up to confront the technical poltergeist face to face. However, when she was only a few feet from Technus, his malevolent grin changed to one of surprise. "You…." He gasped, gaping at Jazz, "you are not the ghost child!"

She crossed her arms, straightening. "No, I'm not." She answered curtly, meeting the volume in his voice by increasing her own. Being only her second battle, Jazz was well aware it was important in a situation like this for her to appear confident; the last thing she wanted was for Technus ….or any ghost….to learn she'd only had her powers for a very short period of time. If they realized that, then no matter how much she looked like Danny, they'd know how inexperienced she was. And how easily she could be crushed.

"Hey! Hey!" Technus cried suddenly, disrupting Jazz's thoughts, "If you are not Danny Phantom, which you are indeed not, then _who_, exactly, are you?" He drifted a little closer to Jazz, his gloved hand scratching his chin as he marveled at her as if she were some sort of crypted puzzle. Jazz stiffened.

"Me?" Jazz shook her head. "I'm a…." She caught herself then. Danny didn't actually know she had powers, and she wanted to keep it that way. True, she had told the Box Ghost they were friends, but, that had been a fluke-a result of nervousness brought on by her first battle. Besides, he wasn't a very smart ghost, meaning he was bound to forget they'd ever had an encounter. However, Technus, foolish though his voice may have sounded, was the 'master of technology' and, if Jazz remembered correctly from the files on her laptop, could easily take over any electronic device: computer, cell phone,PDA. With abilities such as his, Technus had to have some level of intelligence. So for Jazz's sake as well as Danny's, it was best not to risk anything. "I'm just….here to help out." The ghost girl said finally, satisfied with her response. Technus, on the other hand, wasn't.

"I was not aware there were two half ghost _brats _patrolling this place." He mused sourly, white eyebrows slanting downward in discontent. "this will definitely be a problem."

Irritated as she was at being called a brat, Technus' last comment sparked Jazz's interest. "Problem?" She echoed, "What kind of problem?"

Technus paused, as if remembering something, and for a moment, Jazz thought she saw something like _fear _across his face. _Now _that's _odd_, the halfa girl contemplated, _I wonder what's capable of scaring a ghost._ Nonetheless, she was pulled out of her head when the tech-ghost replied "It is no concern of yours. This problem that I have mentioned involves the ghost boy and the ghost boy only. I have no business with _you_." His expression was no longer frightful, but that wasn't what Jazz noticed.

"Listen, Technus," she snapped, her eyes flashing, "If you're going after my….I mean, Danny Phantom, then whatever you're up to _is_, in fact, my business" Then, to prove her point, Jazz added sharply, "_Got it_?"

"Well," Technus huffed agitatedly, "you are certainly bold,_ ghost girl_, I'll give you that." Jazz smirked, and the green-skinned phantom sighed. "Very well. If you will not stand down, then I, Technus, shall have to dispose of you!" His translucent body began to glow, and his hands began to spark. Jazz kept up her confident front, but inside, she was cursing herself. _Great, s_he thought, trying to suppress the slowly rising panic in her chest, _now you've made him angry._

"Prepare yourself, child, for I will show no mercy!" Technus shrieked, throwing his arms in the air and cackling. Jazz balled her fists. So she hadn't made him angry. That didn't mean this was going to be any easier.

* * *

For once, Danny was graced with luck, as the corridor harboring the nurse's office was completely deserted. "That's a relief." He breathed, leaning against the nearest wall to catch his breath and stop his head from spinning. With no one around, changing to his ghostly form would be easy. Refraining from falling over, on the other hand, was going to be a little more challenging. But, being who he was, Danny couldn't afford to waste time. Especially with potential other-worldly danger on the loose.

Casting two more weary glances just to be safe, Danny pushed himself from the wall with an arm, and stood straight, clenching both his teeth and his hands. Ignoring the sudden throbbing in his head, he uttered "I'm going ghost."

He waited for the two rings to appear. Waited for his body to transform into the white-haired, green-eyed phantom. But....nothing happened. No glowing rings, no black and white suite emblazed with his logo...._nothing_. It took Danny a second to notice anything was wrong; after all, why should there be? He'd been going ghost for so long now, it'd become almost second nature. But the transformation had failed, there was no doubt about it.

"Well….this is _odd_." The still human boy murmured. He'd never had trouble becoming a ghost before-and the only time he _did_ have trouble was when, for some reason or other, he'd lost his powers. However, he hadn't been zapped by anything to lose his abilities, nor had any other ghosts extracted them from him. So why he didn't change was beyond him. Not sure what to make of the situation, he reiterated tentatively "Uh….I'm going ghost?"

He held his breath, dread knotting in his chest. Thankfully, however, a bright flash followed by the familiar rings of glowing white appeared. Danny exhaled, relieved, as he changed into his ghostly form. _That was weird, _the boy thought, willing his feet into a wispy tail, _I wonder why…._ At that moment, Danny's ghost sense went off again causing the boy to turn around on instinct.

"Agh!" He shrieked, alarmed to see a large pair of red eyes glaring back at him, a sinister look in each narrowed pupil. Jumping back a few inches, the ghost boy realized that attached to said eyes was an enormous, ecto-green head that looked like a cross between a mosquito and a wasp. Following the head was the thorax, long and slender, with six sharp legs extending from the sides, and two pairs of paper-like wings attached to the back. The abdomen looked the most ferocious; it was mostly shaped like the thorax, but came to a point at the back, a needle-like stinger decorating the tip. Scowling, it wasn't until he noticed who was mounted on the vicious insect he realized he'd seen something similar to it before.

"Bertrand," He muttered, his eyes hardening as the bug snickered at being remembered.

"A _pleasure_ as always, ghost boy." He replied, bowing in the air. Danny shot him a look-he knew he was being taunted-and turned his attention to the other ghost he'd noticed was _riding_ the shape-shifter.

"And Spectra." He spat, rolling his emerald eyes, "of course."

The ghost woman smiled, her teeth glistening, as she stood and placed a hand on her hip. "Well, it's been a while, hasn't it Danny?" She said, her words closer to a statement than a question.

The halfa boy grimaced. "Not long enough." He objected dryly, rotating slowly around the two spirits in the air.

Bertrand scoffed, though in bug form it came out more like a low-pitched buzzing, and Spectra shook a finger at Danny.

"My my," she mused, her voice climbing an octave as she slid off her assistant, "_someone's_ having a bad day." Her smile morphed into a malicious half-grin, her sunglasses sliding an inch down her nose. "I wonder why _that_ could be."

His already furrowed brow creased even further. "As if you didn't already know", he alleged coldly, hands beginning to glow an eerie green.

Spectra laughed in agreement, signifying she did, in fact, know. "Poor _little_ boy," she mocked, Bertrand chuckling g behind her words, "having to battle ghosts when he really should be taking a sick day."

Whatever Danny was expecting his opponent to say, it most certainly wasn't _that_. "How did….how did you know I was…."

Spectra sneered, her eyes dancing ominously. "You'd be surprised at what I know." She hissed.


	27. A new power

Twisting and swerving in the air, Jazz managed to dodge one attack after another as Technus feverously tried to dispose of her, and resume whatever it was he was going to do. In most cases, she wouldn't have cared, particularly because Technus was proving much more powerful than she was prepared for. However, when he had mentioned her brother, the concern for her own well-being seemed to minimize itself in comparison to her desire to protect Danny. And as such, the halfa-girl now found herself playing a very dangerous game.

"AGH!" Technus screamed, yet another of his ecto-techno-blasts missing its target as Jazz hastily flew out of the way, "why can't you stand still?!"

Frantic though the situation was, Jazz frowned, her green eyes flattening. _Is he serious?_ She thought in disbelief, flying a few more feet in the air. But trying to help Danny in the past taught her not to express her thoughts aloud while in a battle. Instead, it was best to antagonize one's foe with incessant 'witty banter.' So when she opened her mouth to answer her opponent, what came out was something along the lines of, "What is this, _Twenty Questions_? _You're_ the 'master of technology'-why do you _think_ I won't stand still?"

Still keeping an eye out for his next attack, Jazz stole a glance at Technus' face, both surprised and pleased that the ghost actually looked _taken aback_. _Not bad, Jazz, _she inwardly congratulated, _you're banter _is _improving_. She smiled slightly, caught up in the moment. But that was all Technus needed.

"I see." He contemplated, "Not only do you _look_ like the ghost child, but you talk like him as well." Jazz gasped, realizing too late his voice was coming from behind, for when she turned around, she was greeted by the other ghost's glowing gloved hand. "Now, let us see if you can take a _hit_ like him!" Technus finished, another blinding blast of energy and technology expelling from his outstretched appendage. Jazz tried to go intangible, but he was too close, and his attack was hurling towards her at an alarming rate. She cried out, the blast hitting her square in the chest, and began plummeting towards the ground below.

_What the?!_ Jazz's mind screamed, arousing the girl from the temporary haze that had clouded her head upon impact, _I….I can't move!_ And indeed, she could not, for not only had the attack singed her uniform and stung her chest, it had also knocked the wind out of her. Any panic Jazz had been suppressing now surfaced, flooding through her body as she continued to fall. _Come on,_ she begged desparatly, frantically searching for a way to prevent herself from crashing, _there's gotta be something I…._And then, when she was only four feet from the ground, it hit her. Screaming the words 'transparent' in her head, the density in her molecules shifted, and Jazz phased through the earth, unharmed, just in time.

It was a weird feeling being underground, a little eerie even. But nothing compared to the humiliation she felt when Technus' twisted laughter echoed in her ears from above. Grinding her teeth 

together, Jazz's white-gloved hands clenched tightly into fists. So he thought he was rid of her, did he? _Alright then, _she speculated, commanding herself invisible. Time to start using her head.

Carefully, quietly, Jazz flew back into the air, stopping a few inches before she reached the previous level she was when she fell. Holding her breath, she looked up, expecting to see Technus, still gloating at his supposed victory, above her. Which she did. _Perfect, _Jazz reflected, sure her enemy wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon….at least until he finished basking in his glory. Which left her just enough time to formulate a plan. Exhaling through her nose, Jazz began a mental list of the ghostly abilities she already had a somewhat stable level of control of: flight, intangibility, and of course, invisibility. Not bad for someone who had just become a ghost. Nevertheless, she frowned. Though she did feel relatively accomplished, all the powers she knew how to use were specific for close combat. Nothing she could attack from long range. Which meant whatever she decided to do, it would be that much more risky. _Can't be helped,_ Jazz told herself, shrugging, making a mental note to undergo some training later on. Right now, she needed to worry about taking out Technus….or at least prevent him from going after her brother.

A surge of determination shooting through her body, Jazz dashed the remaining few inches upward, so that she was level with Technus, who was still enjoying his supposed victory. _Thank goodness he doesn't have a ghost sense, _the halfa girl expressed gratefully. She hadn't really paid much attention to said wispy blue smoke, other than the fact that only half ghosts like herself possessed it. However, now that she had experienced a battle first hand, and was currently in the midst of her second, being able to know ahead of time if a ghost was attacking suddenly seemed like the most precious thing she owned; next to Bearbert, of course. _Wait….what am I doing?_ She suddenly scolded, aware she had just been about to lose herself in her thoughts,_ I need to stay alert! If I zone out now, I'm done for!_ She shook her head then, her lips pursing. _No….there's no time to be thinking like this. I need to clear my head….make sure the only things on my mind are my abilities._ A bead of sweat rolling down the side of her face, the ghost girl straightened, then floated behind Technus. Curling her hands, Jazz pulled back an arm, hoping beyond all hope the strength she had while facing the Box Ghost would come to her aid once again. Taking a deep breath, Jazz propelled her arm ahead, fist slamming into her enemy's back.

"_What the_-AGHH!" Technus screamed, the force of Jazz's blow sending him lurching forward. She smiled, satisfied that she'd seemingly injured him, and, staying invisible, took another swing, this time at his side. _Well, this is easier than I thought,_ Jazz thought relieved, continuing to attack Technus while his guard was still down. Much like her first battle, the white-haired girl was actually enjoying the opportunity she'd taken; each punch giving her a triumphant sense of pleasure. Unfortunately, good things aren't meant to last, as Technus had _just_ about figured out what was going on. Instantly tensing, a current of electricity surrounded his body, so that when Jazz went to punch him again, instead of injuring _him_, she was greeted by the sharp sting of electrical energy. Crying out, Jazz lost control, and hazily started to reappear. Clutching her head in her hands, she watched, badly shaken, as Technus turned around, his oddly shaped teeth glistening menacingly.

"Ah ha. So it was _you_, ghost girl" he concluded, pointing a finger at Jazz. She nodded, trying to force a threatening glare in her eyes, but her voice had temporarily caught in her throat as a result of being electrocuted. She was in pain-there was no denying that-and everything hurt. A lot. In fact, the only thing that could even compare to the shock she'd just withstood was being zapped with the Fenton Portal. But something good had come of that. With this, there was nothing to be gained-no extra ghost powers for her to acquire. Just sore muscles, singed hair and fogged senses. None of which would prove useful in combat. Technus laughed again, enjoying her helpless state. "You seriously thought you could defeat me? _Technus_, master of technology?! Don't be ridiculous! You do not stand a chance against my awesome powers of technology and electrical abilities!"

"O-oh yeah?" Jazz managed, growing angrier the longer she had to listen to Technus' relentless babbling. Her opponent raised one of his eyebrows, then smirked.

"_Yeah_." He shot back, snickering as his hands began to glow. "I have made it clear that I have no immediate problem with you. But since you refuse to stand aside and let me carry on with my business, you leave me no choice but to eliminate you!" With that, two sparking balls of ecto-energy formed in each hand, and Technus thrust them in the direction of the still battered Jazz. Her emerald eyes widened as both blasts spiraled towards her at an alarming rate. Swearing under her breath, Jazz closed her eyes, and held up both arms in front of her face, as a feeble means to protect herself. If only there were some way, some way she could deflect the blast headed towards her….if only there were some way she could defend herself….

A blinding light erupted, and a sequence of crackling and popping sounded off. Jazz's jaw clenched, waiting for the impact of Technus' attack against her body. The light subsided, and the noises died down, but nothing happened. Nothing at all. It was almost as if the ecto-blast had missed her entirely; however, the fact that Technus had aimed his attack at her point blank, and the fact that she hadn't had the strength to move out of the way quickly ruled out that theory. Confused, Jazz hastily opened her eyes.

The first thing she noticed when her eyelids lifted was that her entire surroundings seemed to be tinted in a bright radiant green. _Ecto_-green. A pang of panic struck her and for a moment, Jazz feared she'd been killed by Technus, and was now a full-fledged ghost, facing the endless depths of the Ghost Zone. However, when she realized the scenery around her was the same, despite having a green tinge to them, she calmed down a little, and began to think rationally. The last thing she remembered going through her head before Technus had fired was mentally begging for a means of defense to protect herself. And now everything looked green. _I wonder…._Jazz thought, the wheels in her white-topped head turning. Technus had shot his ecto-blast directly at her, there was no mistaking that. Yet here she was, unharmed, even after being attacked. There was no way her foe could have missed her, so that meant….

"GAAH!" She suddenly heard her opponent shriek, "I cannot believe this!" He frowned, subtly shaking with aggravation. "You are more like that cursed ghost child than I thought! Bringing out 

a shield to deflect my attack! It is not fair!!" the energy surrounding his body crackled in time with his anger. "Seems you will be more of a challenge than I thought."

So _that_ was it. She'd somehow been able to conjure up an ecto-shield. And just in time, no less. Of course, now Technus would be taking her a lot more seriously, but with this new-found ability, Jazz was starting to think she could actually defeat him. Provided she refrained from getting cocky.

"Alright, Technus," she challenged, her voice rising with confidence, "Let me teach you why it's improper to hit a lady!" Hm. Not bad, not bad at all. At least, Technus didn't seem to think so, as he responded by growling at her.

"I do not care if you are male _or_ female," He spat furiously, "you have interrupted my plans, and now I must dispose of you!" He sprang forward, little balls of what seemed to be glowing technology appearing around his body. Jazz mirrored his actions, but instead sprang backwards to allow some distance between her and the enemy. And then an idea came to mind. Dwelling on her brother's past experiences, she remembered that typically, Danny had the habit of dragging out his battles, reciprocating his opponents' attacks by almost giving them what they want, before dealing the final blow. That method was both risky and too long, considering Jazz still needed to get back to class. So she decided it was time to 'shake things up.'

Still keeping her shield up-not that she knew how to deactivate it-the ghost girl hesitantly flew towards Technus, knowing _exactly_ what she had to do. Technus already thought she was exactly like her brother, so he probably assumed her attack method was similar to his as well. Which was why Jazz came to the conclusion that the only current way to beat a ghost that much more powerful than her, was to do the thing they least expected.

In this case, it was to charge head on, in their direction.

Increasing her speed as she flew, Jazz called out, sharply, "Ready?!"

Noticing the white-haired girl headed towards him, Technus laughed, shaking his head. "What do you think you are doing?" He asked, clearly not taking Jazz as a threat; the techno-pieces floating around him growing brighter. The halfa-girl scowled, and stopped, now only a foot or so away from the 'master of technology.'

"Teaching you a _lesson_." She replied curtly, the words 'don't underestimate me' hidden behind her response. Before either ghost could blink, Jazz whipped out the Fenton Thermos, aiming it directly at Technus.

"What?!" Her foe cried, shocked to see the nozzle of the ghost containment unit pointed straight at him. "You _too_ have a thermos?!" Jazz smirked, nodding as a white, spiraling light washed over Technus, engulfing him in its current. He screamed in frustration at this unexpected defeat, but his screeching died down as the technological ghost was pulled fully into the container Jazz possessed.

Clamping the lid firmly over the ghost catching device, Jazz slowly began lowering herself to the ground. She was tired, she was hurting, but she had won. She had held her own against a much stronger ghost, and had beaten him. The same feeling of triumph she had while facing the Box Ghost resurfaced, as did the knowing fact that in a way, she'd helped her bother that much more.

Sighing heavily as her feet touched the ground, Jazz thought the words 'change back,' and her position sagged slightly as she transformed back into her orange-haired, human self. The day wasn't over. Not yet. She still had to get back to class, and find a way to explain her minor injuries. But most importantly, she needed an excuse to cover up why she had taken so long. Smiling wearily to herself, Jazz started back towards the school, drained, achy, but satisfied.


	28. succombing

Sprawled across the hall floor, Danny lay, severely weakened but more than anything else, confused. He didn't understand. One minute he was battling Spectra and Bertrand, the next, completely zapped of energy, and far from feeling perfectly fine. Which wouldn't have been a big deal, had he _lost _the battle. But he didn't; that was the thing. Just like always, Danny managed to defeat both ghosts, no problem, and had sucked them into his Fenton Thermos to be transferred back to the Ghost Zone when he got home. And during the battle, there had been no signs he was tiring, heck, even his mediocre health wasn't noticeable….However, as soon as he'd transformed back into his human self, he felt worse than he had before, the majority of his strength having mysteriously vanished. Which is why he was currently lying on the floor outside the nurse's office; senses clouded and finding it harder to breathe than before.

After a minute or two more had gone by, Danny realized he was not alone, as the rapid sound of increasing footsteps against the floor vibrated in his ears. He swore under his breath, struggling to rise to his feet. But the surprise appearance of an all-too familiar face broke his concentration and he fell forward in surprise.

"Danny?!" His sister cried, rushing over to the boy and kneeling beside him, worry etched all over her face, "What happened to you?!"

The halfa-boy cringed, Jazz's voice stinging his eardrums, but he looked up at her nonetheless. "I…." then he stopped, something catching him off-guard. Jazz, his overbearing, perfect student sister, looked as though she'd been in a _fight_, which, for Danny, was extremely hard to believe. His eyes widened as he stared at the girl. Her hair, normally sleek and straight, was now frazzled, and the ends seemed…._singed_, like they'd been burned. There was a cut across her cheek, and her bottom lip was bleeding slightly. As she reached out to help him, Danny also noticed a large bruise forming on her wrist.

"Danny?" Jazz asked again, her voice a little more forceful but nevertheless anxious, "_What_ happened to you?"

Reaching up with a shaky hand to rub his head, Danny frowned. "What happened to _you_?" He retorted, hoping for once to receive an explanation, rather than being the one to give it.

His sister, however, flinched sharply, a strange expression passing over her face for an instant, before she smiled-though it seemed forced-and said "O-oh, this?" Jazz laughed, "I…." she paused, for reasons unknown to Danny, before concluding, "...tripped….." She must have noticed the skeptical look her brother was wearing, for she added, "….and fell into the wall in front of me."

"Oh." Was all Danny managed to reply. Jazz's explanation had sounded wary, and the raven-haired boy didn't have to guess that his sister was keeping something from him. But right now, he had other things to worry about; mainly, the brutal energy loss he'd just suffered. He groaned, his head throbbing, and he closed his eyes. Jazz watched him nervously, but said nothing; most likely trying to figure out the best way to help her little brother, without causing him any more discomfort.

Finally, she let out a long breath, and Danny's eyes opened, observing with semi-blurred vision as his sister repositioned herself around his body, in attempts to assist him. Placing her hands under his arms, Jazz heaved, her teeth gritting together, and gradually, Danny felt himself being risen to his feet. He looked over at the orange-haired teenager supporting his weight, a little surprised she'd been able to lift him. Indeed she did seem a little worn out, but compared to the wounds she already wore, and Danny's on and off blurred vision, it wasn't that noticeable to the raven-haired boy.

"Come on Danny," Jazz said suddenly, her body slumping under her brother's, "you're going home."

Well, that _struck_ him. "H-home?" He echoed weakly, "but t-the nurse-"

"_Forget_ the nurse," his sister interrupted, her tone strong but her eyes wary with concern, "anyone can see you shouldn't be at school like _this_." Jazz nodded towards her brother, her arms too busy to do a proper gesture, and Danny frowned, but said nothing. Truth be told, there was nothing left he could say….nothing left for him to protest. For though he'd never admit it, even Danny was beginning to see that there was, in fact, something wrong with him.

He looked at Jazz, and she smiled at him sympathetically, recognizing his defeat. "Now let's go Danny," she said softly, steering him down a different corridor, "we need to go to the front office first, but then I'll drive you home."

"O-okay." He replied, head drooping. He was tired-ready, for once, to give in to his sister's advice, knowing that she may actually be right for once.

But out of the corner of his eye, just as their destination came into view, Danny caught Jazz staring at him, in a way he'd never seen before. He couldn't explain it, but something in her aqua eyes seemed….almost _confused_. Strange, seeing how strong and determined she seemed a moment ago. However, he no longer had any strength left to ask his sister _why_ she had looked at him the way she did. Instead, he closed his eyes once more, letting the older girl direct him down the hall. He'd make a mental note to ask her later. Right after he figured out how he'd gotten so sick in such a short amount of time.

**Not a very long chapter, but I think (being the writer of course) this chapter was important. Why? Well, if you aren't sure, I know you'll see soon enough!**

**Ah yes-there **_**was**_** one thing I wanted to point out. Since this chapter was in Danny's perspective, I can't get into Jazz's head and explain what she's thinking-and during the whole "Danny noticing her looking at him strangely bit, that was what I needed to do. So I'll explain now. What Jazz was actually **

**thinking/wondering was why her and Danny's ghost senses hadn't gone off around each other. Why indeed…..**


	29. Starting to see clearly

'"_Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."'_

The blue-haired ghost sighed, resting her pale chin on the back of her hand as she sat atop their so-called meeting hall. Those words….she hadn't been able to get them out of her head since she'd battled the ghost-boy the day before. She didn't know why-after going head-to-head with Danny Phantom not only physically but verbally for so long, she'd almost become immune to the consistent banter that came out of his mouth whenever they crossed paths. Yet for some reason, this time around was different. She _had_ been affected by his words—correction—it wasn't actually the halfa who had said them, but his friend….Tu….'_T_' something she thought his name was. And they hadn't been said directly to her, either. She'd just happened to eavesdrop on the conversation between Danny and his friends after she'd completed phase two of 'the _boss'_' plan. But to her or not, Ember was starting to wish she'd left immediately after she'd beaten the ghost-boy, instead of sticking around long enough to see the damage she'd inflicted upon him. For the longer the phrase ran through her head, the more memories from her past life kept resurfacing—memories she thought she'd repressed long ago.

Peering over the edge of the roof, Ember's mind began to wander, and a sad expression passed over her face. How long _had_ it been since she last reflected on the past….a past where she was still alive—young and full of promise. She shook her head, the flames in her ponytail flickering when she did so. _Too long_, she decided, her green eyes glassy as she remembered who she had been before….before she died. However much time had been spent trying to forget, from the haziness of her thoughts, the female poltergeist guessed had to have been a good while-after all, she'd been a ghost for at least seven years—maybe more; since her death, Ember hadn't really paid much attention to time as a whole.

Shifting her eyes downward, Ember gazed at her guitar—placed at her side-and a rather poignant smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. The instrument, in all its ghostly glory, still reminded her time and time again of the one she used to play….the one she'd discovered her talent with. Even after Technus' alterations, the similarities remained, though the colors themselves were and always had been different; her original guitar having a color scheme more suited to match how she looked at the time. Black and purple instead of magenta and blue.

"_Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."_

The ghost-teen growled, racking the palm of her hand against her forehead. She'd almost forgotten the girl she used to be, and the life she used to have. And though there was a part of her that 

enjoyed remembering who she had been, part of her wished her memories _had_ been truly forgotten. For, now that she was a ghost, she could do nothing about her life but reminisce; there could be no visits to the parents she'd left so long ago, no sudden miraculous re-appearance of "Ember Mclain" to bring her the fame and fortune she once had. She was dead, and as such, the only thing left Ember _could _ever visit was her own grave….and that was something she knew no ghost, no matter how ready they were to move on with their afterlife, wanted to do.

_It isn't fair,_ Ember thought reproachfully, hands clenching together, _why me? Why do_ I_ have to be the one to remember? _She freed her hands, and one, still in a fist, punched the surface beneath her. For a moment, she wondered vaguely if there were other ghosts in the Ghost Zone who occasionally dwelled on their previous lives. But in doing so, Ember realized that, what she was _really_ wondering was why the halfa-boy's friend would bother saying something about her like that. Especially since he and the rest of the living world viewed her kind as the enemy. Was it because she had just dueled with Danny Phantom? Or…..or was it something…._else_?

Vigorously, Ember shook her head again, as if the action would instantly remove the thought from her mind. There was no way….no way he could have actually _meant_ what he said….was there? Did he really believe those words when they escaped his lips? No. No….it wasn't possible. After everything she'd done, after all the lives she'd endangered, there _could_ be no way the ghost-boy's friend had meant it. Not in a sincere way, at least.

And yet….and yet….he'd _seemed_ sincere when he'd made the comment-she hadn't been able to pick up on any mockery or sarcasm in his voice at the time. Nor did he appear to have put much thought into the reaction of his friends, or the fact that he was talking about one of the "threats to Amity park and the world alike"- which to Ember, seemed uncanny. Was there really someone out there who would willingly look past a ghost's dark side and see a faint glint of promise….dare she say…._good_? The halfa-brat certainly never had, so why would this 'Tu….Tuc….k'….

"FOR THE LAST TIME, I AM TELLING THE TRUTH!! WHY DO YOU NOT BELIEVE ME?!"

Ember, yelping slightly, jumped, startled at the annoyingly loud but familiar voice coming suddenly from inside the structure she now sat upon. _Not _him_ again_, she thought, unappreciative of the rude rousing from her thoughts she'd been given by the infamous shrieking that could only belong to the Box Ghost, _what does he want _this_ time?_ She paused, attempting to guess what the irritating poltergeist could be in need of, but eventually gave up. She'd never liked the Box Ghost—he was….well….a lot of things. But quiet, decent and efficient certainly weren't part of whatever it was he _was_, and because of that, Ember usually paid him no head. However, what did intrigue her slightly was the sound of her temporary comrades putting up some kind of a fight. And _that_ was something she'd always make time for. Picking up her guitar, Ember slung it across her back, and willing herself transparent, phased through the roof and into the room below.

"THE BOX GHOST DOES NOT LIE! HE KNOWS WHAT HE HAS SEEN!!" The stout spirit bellowed, pointing a shaking finger at the two opposing him.

Spectra, one of the two, folded her arms, shifting her weight to one leg and causing her body to slump subtly. "Mm-_hm_," she alleged, stressing the second part of the noise as she smiled deviously, "I'm sure you do. Even though there's a next-to-nothing chance you saw what you saw, _I_ believe you!"

The Box Ghost paused, giving the impression he was studying the red-haired woman before him, and trying to decide if she was mocking him. After a second or two of silence, his mouth opened wide, preparing, no dobt, to shout his next response. But Ember chimed in before he could get the words out.

"What, exactly, is this dipstick whining about?" She questioned, looking from the blue-skinned ghost the others. Again the Box Ghost made to speak, but was cut off this time by Skulker, the second of the now three ghosts facing off against the irritating apparition.

"What this idiot is _whining_ _about_, Ember, is the fact that he _thinks_ he saw another _half-ghost._"

Ember's eyes widened as she stared at the metallic hunter, unprepared for a statement like _that _. "Really?" She inquired, temporarily losing the edge in her voice, "You mean, like Danny Phantom?"

Skulker nodded grudgingly, and Spectra rolled her eyes. "So he says, anyway." The ghost-woman added curtly, transferring her weight to her other leg.

"I DO NOT JUST SAY!!" the Box ghost suddenly interjected, tired of being left out of the conversation, "I HAVE BATTLED THIS OTHER HALF-GHOST! AND THOUGH I LOST, I USED FOUGHT HARD USING MY SUPERIOR POWER OVER ALL OBJECTS-"

"We know, we know….'_square_'" Spectra interrupted, finishing the statement they had all heard hundreds of thousands of times. "_Look_, _Box Ghost_, you say you lost the battle, right? So what are you doing back _here_? Shouldn't you be lodged somewhere in that Ghost-catching thermos of theirs?"

Ember could feel herself twitch a little at the mention of that cursed container. It had helped that ghost-brat thwart her plans several times, and Ember was non-too fond of it. Figured he'd be the one to have the one thing that could actually catch and hold a ghost. Of course, considering Danny's alias, and why her parents were, Ember knew she should expect no less from him. Nevertheless, mentioning the Fenton thermos still remained a sore spot for the blue-haired girl. And, observing his rapid and fidgety movement along with the changed expression on his face, Ember could guess it was the same with the Box Ghost, for, still glaring at Spectra, he cried

"DO NOT ASK THE BOX GHOST QUESTIONS ON SOMETHING HE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT!! FOR YOU WILL NOT GET THE ANSWER YOU REQUIRE!!" His arms were raised now, his hands and fingers extended high above his head—his 'infamous' position when attempting to look threatening. As usual, the attempt failed….although it _did_ manage to push Skulker over the edge, for before Ember 

could blink, he had whipped out one of the many lasers incorporated in his suite, and was now aiming it directly at the Box Ghost's plump bluish head.

"Fool though you are, don't think I won't hesitate to lock you and that mouth of yours in my trophy room and add you to my collection. So if you want to keep your freedom…._and_ that ghostly body of yours _intact_, I suggest you leave us." Though completely dressed in metal, Skulker's green eyes narrowed dangerously. "_Now_."

The laser, extending from a metallic panel on Skulker's shoulder, began to glow; the Box Ghost, noticing this, hovered a few feet away, increasing his speed the farther from the bounty hunter he got. Deciding it was safer to, in fact, leave, the Box Ghost flew hastily upward, screaming his usual "BEWARE!" as he headed off. Waiting until he had completely phased through the wall, and thus out of eye sight and ear shot, Skulker's weapon folded and tucked itself back into its panel.

If they were able, all three ghost would have breathed a sigh of relief as they watched the Box Ghost scurry away. Whether it be the living world or the Ghost Zone, the Box Ghost was a pain in nearly everyone's side. Still, Ember couldn't help but dwell on what he'd been shrieking about earlier. Turning to Skulker, she asked "Do you….do you think it's possible he _wasn't_…."

"No." The hunter replied curtly, interrupting before Ember even had the chance to finish her question. "I don't."

She glared at him, placing her balled hands on her hips. "Well, thanks for hearing me out, _dipstick_." She uttered, purposely drenching her response with disdain. She knew it the probably of another halfa roaming Amity Park was incredibly slim, but the prospect intrigued her nonetheless. It wasn't as if she was actually hoping the Box Ghost's ear-piercing rants _had_ been true—that would be crazy—but rather the fact she'd always been curious if there _were_ others out there like the ghost-boy, who decided to use their powers for the greater good, instead of their own personal enjoyment.

Spectra, aware the younger ghost-girl had lost herself in thought over the matter, grasped Ember's pale shoulder and gave it a firm shake. "Listen honey," she began, after reviving the girl, "of all the ghosts who inhabit this zone, the Box Ghost could be the dimmest bulb of them all—you know that."

Ember nodded, jerking herself free of Spectra's hold, and crossing her arms. "I _know_," she snapped, her senses refocusing and the sharp tone in her voice returning, "get to the point."

"The _point_," Spectra went on, frowning, "is that everything said by the Box Ghost-every action taken-is bound to be full of nonsense….and therefore, shouldn't be bothered with. Understand?"

'_Understand?'_ Where did _that_ come from? "Of course, I understand, dipstick!" Ember shot, her fiery hair flaring in aggravation at the older woman, "I'm not a child, and I'm not _stupid_ either." From somewhere to her left she heard Skulker scoff, to which she responded by shooting a ray of magenta ecto-energy from her finger in his direction. Ignoring his startled cry, Ember glowered hard at Spectra, beginning to rise from the floor.

"I know you think you're on his good side, Spectra," she said, now addressing their 'leader' and Spectra's newfound superior attitude towards those younger and what she considered 'less experienced,' "but I'd watch out. There's something about him...something…._different_….and whatever it is, we can't trust him."

Shock flickered over Spectra's face, giving Ember mild satisfaction that she'd hit the needle on the head, but at the moment, the girl had more important things to do. Such as getting out of _here_ so she could have some time to think. Much farther off the ground than she had been before, her flaming ponytail began to grow, and twisted swiftly around her body. As her vision became engulfed in blue, the ghost-teen's reflected over everything that had just happened, and was amazed at how fast it all seemed to have happened. Shrugging, her thoughts once again fell on the earlier phrase which kept entering her mind.

'"_Ember would probably make a decent rock star….you know….if she wasn't bent on world domination and all."'_

She was still bothered by the words, and the boy who said them, which was partially why she was leaving the 'boss'' meeting hall and venturing off somewhere to clear her head. But as her world became wrapped in a sizzling blue, phrase matched manner matched face, and everything clicked.

_Tucker._ _That_ was his name.

**I know, I know. You guys are all probably wondering "What the HECK was that about?!" Well truth be told….actually….I really can't say—not yet. Just know that Ember's perspective IS actually important, especially for the end of this fic. So please don't think this chapter was a waste of time! Because I can assure you, it wasn't!**


	30. Three Days Later

Three days had passed since her battle with Technus, and in that time, Jazz had made miraculous progress in controlling her powers, something she knew had taken her younger brother many months to accomplish. And though she perhaps didn't have the _best_ control, it was enough so that whenever Jazz entered a battle, she no longer had the fear of her powers malfunctioning mid-fight. In addition, while she still possessed the flight, strength, invisibility, intangibility and shield, a few late nights spent training helped the halfa-girl discover even more abilities; mainly, how to fire ecto-energy from either of her hands—something she'd seen Danny do but hadn't figured out how to reproduce on her own until very recently. And despite the fact she may have lost a few hours' sleep in the process, learning to shoot ecto-blasts proved to be very useful, as she now had an attack that was long range. In addition, transforming into a ghost had become slightly easier, and much stealthier as well. Before, Jazz had copied her brother, using his audible "Going ghost" as a trigger to activate the transformation. However, as she began to use her powers more often, as the number of ghosts had mysteriously increased, Jazz realized she'd need a speedier way to change into her ghostly self, as repeating the same phrase over and over not only got on her nerves but took extra time better spent tracking down an enemy. And then it hit her. Whenever Jazz changed from a ghost to a human, all she had to do was think the words 'change back.' If that were the case, then shouldn't the same thing occur when changing _into_ a ghost? She certainly thought so, and after experimenting for a while, the orange-haired teen proved her theory correct. All it took now was to picture the words 'change' in her mind, and the two glowing rings would appear around her body.

Aside from the maturing of her powers, Jazz had made a few—and by few she meant one—noticeable adjustment to her physical appearance as a ghost. Whereas before her ghostly garbed torso was a solid black, now woven on the chest were the letters "J" and "P" meshed together, to form a sort of logo resembling Danny's intertwined "DP." Short for "Danny Phantom," the girl knew. Just has _her_ logo stood for "_Jazz_ Phantom." It wasn't the most original title, but Jazz rather liked her brother's idea of replacing their last name with the word phantom. The two were similar enough that there was a nice ring to it. Plus, her own symbol added to her newfound confidence as a half-ghost….and in a way….a _super hero_. After all the 'dirty work' she'd been doing lately, the orange-haired girl certainly felt like one. An over abused one, that is. Yet despite how worn out she'd feel, or how aggravating she'd become, Jazz knew that all the ghosts she faced, all the ghosts she captured, aided Danny in some way or another and lessened _his_ ghost hunting.

Danny. In the three days since Jazz drove him home from school mid-day, his health hadn't improved. In fact, it had gotten _worse_. While his current symptoms were still present—coughing, dizziness, headaches—whatever illness it was Danny had was now beginning to show on the outside of his body as well as inside, which it had previously been doing. The boy's already skinny figure seemed even thinner than usual, to the point where his body appeared malnourished, which she could see, in a sense—for everyday he was sick Danny had been eating less and less. But if he was as ill as his body portrayed, Jazz feared it wouldn't be long before he ceased eating meals altogether. Temporarily setting that problem aside, there were many other things wrong with her little brother—things that _finally_ convinced her father that his son was not, in fact, possessed by a ghost. Danny's skin, though it had been slowly losing its color, currently included an ashy pale tone to it, singed in a sickly green. He 

was hot to the touch—a bad sign—and felt clammy; the boy sweating frequently as he battled whatever sickness it was he had. The volume of Danny's voice was long gone; he could only speak in just above a whisper. Even when trying to shout. And, perhaps worse of all was his nerve-racking cough. Though each of his earlier symptoms had increased, his cough had undergone the most drastic change—not only painful for her brother each time it happened but painful for the rest of his family to listen to as well. Jazz knew it hurt him; a racking noise like that coming from such a frail boy _must_ have hurt—heck, she'd seen his face twist in pain for a moment or two after every time, and his shaking hands clutched at his ribcage. Of course, it wasn't until her mother had seen Danny cough up _blood_ a few times that her parental instincts clicked in, and she ordered him to stay in bed while she called the doctor.

That was almost two days ago, and no doctor had shown up at their doorstep—her mother refuse to move the raven-haired boy anywhere—to examine the ailing Danny. Though a part of Jazz felt relieved her parents had finally chosen to act like the adults they were; she couldn't fully enjoy it under these….

"JASMINE FENTON!! GET IN HERE THIS INSTANT!!"

Jazz jumped, nearly falling off her bed as her father's voice exploded angrily from downstairs. She cringed, already aware of why he was calling her. _Uh-oh_, her mind warned her anxiously, _this can't be good._

Hopping off her bed, Jazz sprang to her feet, and raced down the stairs. Following the sound of voices, not only her mother's now but her father's as well—the two obviously in a discussion— Jazz hurried her way to the kitchen, where, as she expected, her parents were standing around the table, their eyes fixated on the various loose papers spread across it—all with the letters A-s, Bs and at least one or two Cs. A grades conference. _Great…._she thought, mentally cursing as she entered the room.

"Er….hi mom….hi dad…." She greeted cautiously, her stomach like lead as both her parents turned to face her.

Her father's eyes, she noticed, narrowed a little as he looked at his daughter, but her mother, always the one to keep a cool head, answered simply, "Jazz, dear, come sit down." She gestured to the table before them, and Jazz, gritting her teeth, obliged and took a seat. Watching with wary aqua eyes, Jazz saw her mother's brow furrow, and a frown formed on her lips.

"Sweetie, you know why you're here, don't you?"

_Yes_. Jazz thought, glancing at the poorly graded assignments in front of her. But she remained silent. In a situation like this, it was wise to keep her comments to herself. At least for the time being, anyway. Maddie, however, took advantage of her daughter's fail in reply.

"Recently, you have received one-too-many A-s and Bs, and-"

"And Cs," her father Jack cut in, oddly missing the obnoxious manner in his voice.

Maddie nodded, "Yes Jack, that's right. And _Cs_. I'm sure you understand, Jazz, that this cannot continue. Especially for a student like yourself." Now it was Jazz's turn to frown, though hers was flatly. Of _course_ she knew 'this' couldn't continue. She'd witnessed enough of Danny's grades conferences to understand the supposed 'situation' she was in. It was ironic, really, to find herself in the same place for the same reason her brother had been in not even a week ago….

It was then Maddie sighed heavily, interrupting her daughter's train of thought, and exchanged looks with her husband before continuing, "Jazz, what's gotten into you all of a sudden? Your grades are slipping, you haven't been getting enough sleep….if this kind of behavior keeps up, you'll have to receive some consequence for it."

"Hold on!" Jazz cried suddenly , startling her parents and breaking the somber mood, "It's not my fault! I-" but she stopped, only then realizing what _real_ situation she was in. It _was_ her fault. The grades, the sleep deprivation—it all circled back to the night she shocked herself with the Fenton Portal….the night she'd made the decision to become half-ghost. However, she couldn't say _that _to her parents; with all the stress over her brother's health, adding a halfa-daughter to the mix would probably send both parents over the deep end. Even her father.

"H-hey…." A familiar and incredibly weak voice sounded, breaking the silence that had grown between the family, "w-what's….w-what's going on?"

Three heads turned, and all eyes focused with surprise and sympathy at the raven-haired boy feebly clutching the railing midway down the stairs, his eyes glassy and his breathes rasped.

"Danny?" All three echoed, Maddie turning away from Jazz to rush over to her son. Jack followed suite, worry blazing in his beady eyes, yet Jazz stayed put, something else bothering her. Her ghost sense. It hadn't gone off when her brother had come down. _That's strange,_ she contemplated watching with concern as her parents fussed over Danny, _I wonder why…._the words left her mind as she began reflecting over the last few times she and her brother had been near each other, and how many times their ghost senses had activated. Her eyes widening, it suddenly occurred to Jazz that, since bringing him home three days prior, she hadn't felt or seen the little blue wisp of smoke escape her throat. Not around her brother at least. "Well, that doesn't make any sense." She breathed, tapping her chin with a finger in confusion.

Abruptly, a small squeak followed by a booming crash echoed in her ears, and Jazz refocused her attention just in time to witness the end of one of Danny's coughing fits, the force of this one so hard it knocked the railing from his hand, which in turn caused him to lose balance. Jack and Maddie crying out as they attempted to catch the boy from falling, Jazz, dodging from view, willed herself invisible, all the while screaming 'change' in her head as she proceeded to race towards the staircase.

She couldn't see, but the sudden rush of energy pulsing through her body signaled to Jazz that her transformation into a half-ghost had been a success, and without hesitation, she flew up the staircase, arms out and ready to catch her brother.

Luckily, she got there just in time, as Danny tumbled backwards into her invisible arms. Gently wrapping her appendages around his torso, she quickly but carefully carried him to the top of the stairs, setting him down a few feet away from the entry and against a wall, where he, dazed, slumped. Smiling to herself, Jazz was tempted to ruffle the boy's hair, nonetheless, the stomping of feet against wood with frantic cries of "Danny!" and "Son, are you okay?!" quickly ruled out that option.

Blatantly aware of her parents' nearing voices, the ghost-girl flew a few feet higher in the air, so that her head nearly touched the ceiling. Family could be a funny thing sometimes.

Family….

….maybe _that _was it. They were family, she and Danny. Perhaps spending so much time together eventually nullified their ghost senses when around each other. It certainly made sense….in an odd sort of way.

Her analogy was cut short, however, when the oh-so-familiar wisp of smoke sprang from her mouth, though it only became visible once it exited entirely. If Jazz was correct, Danny couldn't have been the one to set it off, so that meant there was _another_ ghost close by. She really didn't feel like taking on a poltergeist, but with the condition of her brother, Jazz was well aware she didn't have a choice. Sighing, she curled her fists and swiveled around, ready to fly through the roof of their house to face whatever ghost it was who wanted a fight.

Yet before she made her exit, Jazz took a moment to pause, trying to remember something. _Did I….? _ she asked herself, her brow creasing as she thought back on the last few days…._did I empty the Fenton Thermos?_ It was a silly question, but truth be told, there had been a few times where Jazz had indeed forgotten to empty the Fenton Thermos after capturing a ghost: Technus, she had forgotten about entirely for over twenty-four hours, finally remembering only yesterday to dump him, and the other ghosts she'd caught back into the Ghost Zone where they belonged. But after a while, Jazz shrugged, coming to the conclusion that even if it hadn't been emptied recently, she could always do it after battling the unidentified ghost that had made itself known to Jazz. So, doubling back just a bit, the halfa-girl focused on the word 'transparent' before she dove, head first, through the floor and into the basement—picking up the thermos before going to face her supernatural opponent.

She _was_ a ghost. A half-ghost. She had made that decision and nothing could change it now. After all, Jazz had wanted to be there for her brother, to help him in his times of need. And, casting one last glance at the ailing boy, she knew that time, if ever, was _now_. Even if it meant dropping her grades in the process.

**WOW! The 'three days later' point! I've been wanting to get to this part for ages! Because, after this chapter, ATJ is (sadly) coming to a close! NOOOOO! Don't worry, there will still be a few more chapters (I want to try to stay under ten, but we'll see) As well as an eventual alternate ending. You heard me. There will be an alternate ending to ATJ, so stay tuned!!**

**That aside, I really kind of like this chapter. I feel it's kind of the point in the story where Jazz fully 'replaces' Danny as a halfa (did anyone recognize the 'grades conference' conversation? (see chapter two) Plus, Jazz FINALLY has better control over her powers, which means I don't have to continually describe the process it takes her to get one to work. (it may have been entertaining, but it was a pain to write) That aside, I can't believe this fic is thirty chapters already! When I started it, that was my original chapter limit! It's amazing how much this story has expanded since I began writing it.**


	31. Time to interfere

**Yep! Another chapter already! Yay!**

**At least I think it's a yay….I'm starting to think people are getting fed up with this story because it's so long. cries I'm sorry! I've just been trying to balance it in between dragging, and rushing. Also, at my mentioning of an alternate ending. YES there will be one, but it WILL NOT be anywhere as long as the fic itself: I want to say three chapters, max.**

**That aside, with this next installment, I can safely say that ATJ's ending is coming up, so R&R!**

Things were not going well. _That_ was apparent. And though he found it hard to believe, he should have expected as much. Asking four lesser ghosts to assist him with his plan—what was he thinking? Crimson eyes narrowing, he growled, furious with himself. Whatever he _had_ been thinking while considering their help, obviously didn't turn out as he'd hope. Danny Fenton was still alive—though just barely—and all four of his ghostly associates had up and disappeared. Whether it was from desertion or defeat by the ghost-child he knew not, but either way, it left him to deal with the completion of his plan alone.

Pausing in his wake—he had been slowly floating down his assigned meeting hall—a previously recollection of his resurfaced in his mind, forcing both sides to shake as a laugh of disbelief erupted from his throat. _Desertion_. Now there was an amusing thought. What fool, he wondered, would _ever_ consider _standing up_ against him, and attempting to leave their allocated tasks unfinished? His pale head swerved back and forth at the stupidity of it all. The ghosts he chose to work with were no great masterminds—their numerous defeats against Danny Phantom had proven _that_—but even _they_ recognized immediate danger when they saw it. Unless asking for a death wish, he knew well enough the four of them wouldn't dare back out now. Which left only one remaining option….

….they had been defeated by the halfa-boy and sucked away into his _cursed_ Fenton Thermos. _No…._he reflected, mentally waving away the option, _it's not possible._ Danny was far too weak to be an even match for any of them, which meant that despite their previous defeats, Ember, Spectra, Skulker and Technus actually posed as a threat to him. That is, if everything went according to plan.

Never one for a physical outburst, his sharp, pointed teeth clenched together, however, inwardly he envisioned himself punching the walls surrounding the corridor. It didn't matter _what_ had happened to his associates; the point was they were _gone_. _All_ of them. Even that irritatingly cheerful—and at times….almost…._clingy_—Spectra. This in turn gave him the realization that unless he discovered _where_ the four of them went, he would have to finish his scheme on his own. Not that he wasn't willing to do it—with the first two phases accomplished, it would be next to no challenge at all to kill the boy. The problem came with the knowledge that his appearance might spark some sudden "strength and determination" in the ghost-child, and bring about his defeat. As had happened last time. _Of course,_ last _time he had _Clockwork_ on his side,_ he reflected angrily. With the master of time at one's aid, losing became next to impossible, since he consistently claimed to know _everything_. That being said, the 'ghostly braniac' believed _he_ was still trapped helplessly in that thermos…

Unexpectedly, two scarlet wisps of smoke floated from his nostrils, signaling to him there was a ghost nearby. Tuning his ears intently to his surroundings, in no time his acute hearing picked up on the sound of quick, frantic movement—coming from above him. Scowling, he looked up, only to be greeted by a panicked green-skinned, white haired ghost spiraling down towards him—plagued by some notion other than the one keeping his flight pattern in check. Crimson eyes rolling, the one watching casually sidestepped the crazed apparition, a bemused expression crossing his face as he observed the other ghost nearly collide with the floor, before pulling himself upright, wild-eyed and in a frenzy.

"Technus," he uttered with mild surprise, folding his arms, "Nice of you to finally show up."

At being addressed to, Technus' head shot in the direction of his superior's voice, white hair whipping behind him due to force. "A-ah….yes." He muttered, fumbling to form a response for the much more powerful ghost. The tech-ghost seemed….perturbed….if anything else, though it was of little concern to _him_, and, ignoring the feeble response from the shaken poltergeist, he muttered curtly,

"About time." Technus nodded right away in response, but it was of little notice to the other ghost, who continued to speak "Are the others with you? He asked curtly, floating steadily over to the one facing him.

For the second time, Technus replied by a head movement, this time shaking rather than nodding. "No, no s-sir." He added, a little hysterically, noticing the darkening look on his acclaimed leader's face. Noticing this, said leader almost laughed, had the situation been different. However, currently, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

"they're not with you. They're not with me….." he started, referring to his missing associates, "….so the question remains….where are they?" As he spoke, he bent forward, his face only inches away from the other apparition. Technus, startled, backed away, and this pleased him—even the most obnoxious of ghosts knew when they were faced with _real_ danger. Thus, whatever frenzy Technus had been in was temporarily pushed aside, and the white-haired ghost straightened.

"I-I do not know where they are." He began, faltering at first under the trying glare of his crimson eyes. He growled then, his pointed teeth showing. _Get to the point,_ his mind nearly screamed, straining his body from acting out and firing an ecto-blast at the 'master of technology.' However, Technus, somehow receiving the message, instantly started up again. "If I had to guess, I would assume they are still within in the confines of that accursed Fenton Thermos, since that other half-ghost continuously _forgets_ to empty it." The words were said matter-of-factly, but there was a distinct tone of anger coating the tech-ghost's ramblings. But he could understand _that_.

What he _couldn't_ understand, however, was the nonsense laced within Technus' words. _Another_ halfa? _No, _he assured himself, taking a turn and shaking his head, _it isn't…._

And then he remembered something: it _was _possible for there to be another half-ghost, despite how outlandish the idea may have seemed. He, unlike most in the Ghost Zone, knew _exactly_ how Danny Fenton had first acquired his ghostly powers, and because of this, knew, in fact, that it wouldn't be too difficult for someone _else_ to undergo the same process.

"Technus." He suddenly stated, reeling out of his thoughts, "Is what you're saying true? Is there another half-ghost flying around Amity Park?"

Although slightly shocked at being taken seriously by his superior, Technus frowned. "Yes." He uttered flatly, both hands clenching into fists. "We dueled nearly _three days ago, _and only _last night_ was I released back into the Ghost Zone."

That last part, though it bothered Technus, didn't matter to _him_. Only the confirmation that another halfa existed in the same area of Danny Fenton did. "I….see." He said, slowly, after a moment of thought. "I see." His eyebrows narrowed, and he could feel the energy radiating from his eyes, signaling they had begun to glow. "then perhaps it's time for me to…._interfere_."

**I know I know! With this chapter, the main villain is revealed, even without saying his name. And I know everyone's already figured it out many chapters ago, but since I'm writing mostly in Jazz, Danny and Ember's perspective—**_**they**_** don't know who he is, and until **_**he**_** reveals himself to them, said villain's name will not be used in the fic. Fortunately, he'll reveal himself very soon….which will make writing this thing so much easier!**


	32. temporary truces and familar faces

**Hey there everyone! I've finally posted another chapter!! YAY! Sorry it took so long….but I'm assuming, by its length, you can all figure out **_**why**_** I haven't updated sooner. This is the longest chapter I've ever written!! But it's also one of the most important…..**

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"_Uhn_…." Danny groaned, struggling to move a little under his blankets as he slowly opened his eyes. The room—his room— was, as it had been for the past three days, his usual 'greeting' from yet another temporary slumber, its contents a mass of hazy colors to his still groggy vision, though that, too, had become standard to the raven-haired boy, as he hadn't been able to truly see clearly since the last time he transformed.

Transformed….how that word had changed so much: Originally being a sense of power, the very idea now brought fear to Danny's mind. Fear for his friends, fear involving his enemies, but most importantly, fear for himself. For the simple truth of the matter was that he couldn't transform, _couldn't_ become a ghost. Not anymore. Oh he had tried, many times in fact, even after he'd been restricted to bed rest; his ghost sense alerting him of constant danger, making him want to escape from containment, and spring into action. But he couldn't. No matter what he did, no matter what he _said_, the two white rings wouldn't come, and without them, Danny was useless against whatever threats came to Amity Park. It angered him to no means, especially when his ghost sense still activated now and then. But even that had stopped going off, which left the boy not only defenseless, but clueless as well.

Oddly enough, the amount of ghosts _hadn't_ increased with Danny's 'sick leave.' Rather, the number of other worldly invasions seemed to have almost _declined_, impossible though it may have sounded. Of course, he'd heard the countless news reports his father always watched blaring downstairs, and, with all that had happened to his town over the past year, the chances of a faulty live report seemed unlikely. Still, being who he was, Danny couldn't help but be alarmed by the lessened ghost attacks, instead of relieved, as he should have been. Why hadn't any meddling spirits attempted another ploy? Was it possible that for once his foes felt sympathy against his ailing condition and were willingly granting him a vacation? He would have shaken his head, had it not been throbbing, so instead, the boy scoffed. _Yeah right_, he thought dismally, knowing better, _like that'll happen anytime soon_. Ghosts didn't feel sympathy, heck, ghosts didn't feel _anything_—past experiences had taught him that. _But if that's the case, _Danny mentally continued, _what _are_ they doing then?_

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Circling around, Jazz flew out from the back of her home, a precaution in case any of her family members happened to see her. However, considering the situation she'd just left them in, both her parents _and_ her brother were too concerned with his health to even bother noticing the halfa-girl now floating five feet from her house. She'd turned off her invisibility, saving it for a more necessary time—besides, Jazz had yet to figure out if staying in her ghostly form wasted energy. It didn't appear to be that way, but all the same, it never hurt to be careful.

Flying a little higher now, Jazz noticed her ghost sense activating more frequently, signaling to her the ghost she'd been pursuing was somewhere close by. Balling her fists, the white-haired girl shot upward—having learned fast the best way to spot an enemy was from an aerial view. _Still,_ her mind cautioned, _maybe I'd better turn invisible again….just to be safe…._ Her thoughts abruptly ended as yet another wisp of blue smoke spiraled from her mouth, bringing Jazz back into focus as it continued to float forward, then dissipated without a trace.

Following the no-longer-existent smoke's direction, Jazz's head turned to the right, shifting her gaze down a little as most her surroundings were below her. Green eyes searching about, they suddenly focused on a wavy blue outline perched atop the roof of her home. Curious, Jazz slowly lowered herself, all the while rotating so that she'd end up behind the colorful blob when she landed. While doing so, however, Jazz began to realize that the hazy blue object was not the only one sitting on top of the building. As Jazz neared the surface, she started to notice distinct details the azure article had hidden from her so high above. Such as its true identity. Flickering wildly like fire, said blue object took on the shape of a typical ponytail, attached to a circular-esque object—to which Jazz assumed to be a head—by a jet black hair tie. Following the head was a body, lean and pale, garbed in somewhat outlandish black clothing. An assortment of earrings decorated her—it had to be a girl for obvious reasons—ears, and a black choker adorned her chalky throat. She had only one glove, it too the color of midnight, and stretched from her elbow over her hand, and was clutching the neck of a bright pink and yellow guitar. Her legs were swung over the side of the roof—she was sitting on the edge—and as such, Jazz was unable to see her lower half; however, had she'd been able to, the ghost-girl guessed gray boots, skulls at the toes, would have been on her feet. How did she know this? Simple. As Jazz flew closer and closer to the roof, she realized, with aggravation, that she recognized the blue-haired figure before her—more so than the other ghosts she'd faced recently.

"Ember…." Jazz muttered dryly, her feet touching the surface of the roof as she landed. Her voice was hushed, though still audible, but loud enough that it caused the deceased rock star to turn around and stand up.

"Who…." She began, unfamiliar with the one who had just addressed her, "Who are-" She stopped then, emerald eyes widening as they fell on Jazz. She _looked_ like the ghost-boy: the clothes, hair and eye color were all the same. Heck, she even _sounded_ like him—obviously having been the one to call her name, the scorn that came from battling countless poltergeists was definitely present in her voice. Nevertheless, she _wasn't_ him, which not only threw Ember for a loop, but also meant that the conversation held three days prior with her colleagues hadn't, in fact, been a waste of time.

"So the Box Ghost was telling the truth…." She speculated, her jaw dropping two inches as she gaped at this…._other_ halfa.

Jazz frowned, crossing her arms. "Telling the truth about _what_?" She questioned, hand cautiously fumbling around her belt in attempts to draw out the Fenton thermos without Ember noticing. However, the other girl seemed too preoccupied with the sight of another half-ghost to even be aware of Jazz's careful searching of the metallic container. She couldn't help but grin; the opportunity couldn't have been better. Her eyes flashed as her hand finally touched metal, giving the girl the notion she'd found the thermos, and without second thought, whipped it from her belt—the nozzle aimed directly at her opponent.

_That_ snapped Ember back to her senses, jumping sharply at discovering the situation she'd somehow managed to get herself into.

"Sorry we didn't have time for introductions," Jazz spat, her voice bathed with the sense of a sure victory, "but I've got a sick brother to care for, and homework to do." Her gloved hand, previously hovering over the thermos' lid, now grasped it tightly in preparation to yank it off and capture her enemy. The confidence in her manner was so strong that not even Ember could tell Jazz was mentally cursing her mistake of relaying too much information to the blue-haired ghost.

Ember let out a small shriek—uncommon for a ghost—and hastily backed away until she was no longer standing on the roof, but floating eyelevel with it.

_That's unusual, _Jazz thought, watching Ember's odd behavior, her hand temporarily paused over the lid. She'd never seen a ghost act so…._off_ , if that was the correct word for it. Not even Technus, which in itself was something, for she could have sworn for a moment, to have seen utter terror flash across his face. Come to think of it, many of the ghosts Jazz had dueled against recently had acted strangely—more so then when they'd battled her brother. However, none of them had _ever_ said the next words that came out of Ember's mouth.

"I don't want to fight you!"

_What?_ Jazz blinked, not quite believing what she was hearing. Did Ember just…. "What did you say?" Jazz asked again, just to be sure, hand still around the lid of the container.

The blue-haired girl looked back at Jazz, meeting her gaze, but struggling to keep her desperation under control. "I don't want to fight you." She reiterated, holding up her hands.

Jazz, however, remained silent, pensive about her next response, in turn putting the other girl even further on edge. Yet Jazz paid very little heed to Ember's reaction; too busy planning her _own_. _Alright Jazz, _she reminded herself, still aiming the thermos at her foe,_ this is _Ember_ your facing. The same Ember who's constantly escaped from the ghost Zone to torment your brother and follow through with her plans of world domination. So why,_ and here her eyebrows creased, _why would she claim not to want to fight? It doesn't make sense._ And it didn't. However, something, something that occurred to Jazz a while ago, _did_. No matter their actions, no matter their words, a ghost from the Ghost Zone could _not_ be trusted. Not even the one attempting a truce in front of her. Nodding slightly to herself, Jazz smirked, telling the other ghost she'd reached her decision.

"I told you before," she began, gradually untwisting the metallic lid still clamped in her hand, "I have other things I need to be doing. So forgive me for not playing along with your little _scheme._"

On the word 'scheme' she finally removed the lid, and a spiraling white light erupted from the depths of the thermos…..

….then something happened Jazz never expected. As the light pummeled towards her, Ember, though severely startled, decided at the last moment to evade the capturing ray, flying instead—full speed—out of the way and off to the left.

It took Jazz a second or two to realize what had just occurred, before crying "hey!" and dashing after her, angry, yet still surprised, that a ghost had chosen to run away as an alternative to shouting threats of eternal revenge and cursing yet another defeat.

----------------------------------------

Exhausted though he may have been, Danny Fenton hadn't been able to fall asleep since his last awakening. True, the constant change in his body temperature—first too hot, then too cold—made it almost impossible to get comfortable, let alone give him enough time to doze off. However, that wasn't the only problem prohibiting him from a catnap, despite the fact it contributed largely. It was the numerous thoughts going through his head. Having spent the majority of the last three days in his room, there wasn't much else Danny could do. But as his mind travelled through his memoires and ideas, the boy had drawn some….interesting conclusions—finally taking the time to analyze memories he previously would have overlooked. Memories, he realized, that all had to do with his older sister.

"_Uh, could you uh….for….old times, I guess….could you tell me how you got your ghost powers?"_

"_Nothing, just…….wait….you can see me?"_

"_Look, Danny, I'm fine. Perfectly fine. Just a little…….stressed is all-too much studying.….so, uh….thanks for your concern, but I'm totally okay! No need to worry at all." _

"_O-oh, this? I…...tripped….." _

Jazz. She'd been acting...different the past week, so distant, so….unsure of herself….almost like she'd gone insane.

_No,_ he corrected, deciding against shaking his head, _that isn't it….she's not insane. She's just…._

All of a sudden, Danny sat bolt upright, his glassy eyes wide, the reality of the situation hitting him like a bucket of ice water. There was no way…..no _possible way_ she….

In the midst of this insight, the door bell rang, pulling the boy from his thoughts—the pain and wooziness from sitting up so fast kicking in. Wincing, Danny lay back down, ears tuned in to the following conversation after his father went to open the door:

"Hello—oh, it's you two."

Two voices—both oddly familiar—chorused together, a little awkwardly, "Hi, Mr. Fenton."

"What do you want?"

A pause, though Danny knew not why, before the male of the two voices continued,

"We need to see Danny."

_See me?_ He wondered, _why? _No one had bothered to see him for the past three days, partially because his parents had gotten extremely overprotective, and partially because, without his illness diagnosed, there was no telling if what Danny had was contagious or not. Apparently, his father remembered that.

"Sorry kids, that's not an optio-"

"No, sir, you don't understand." The female interrupted, her voice a little frantic, "this is an emergency!"

Familiar? Of course they were—when the female had said the word "emergency" Danny realized with embarrassment that _Sam and Tucker_ were the ones at the door, the ones conversing with his father. The ones he didn't recognize. The boy sighed then, folding his arms over his chest, a sudden saddened look on his pale face. _Guess my hearing's going too._

"Rules are rules, Samantha. No one sees Danny until we figure out what's wrong with him. You know that."

True, they did. And at this point, the raven-haired boy knew many others did as well. Sam and Tucker weren't stupid, nor were they naïve—if his parents ordered others away, especially for their own safety, the two would most likely obey them, even if they were Danny's best friends. Still, when Sam had spoken, her voice really was coated in urgency, signaling to the boy they actually had a genuine reason to see him. By genuine, of course, he meant _ghost-related_.

"but-"

Ah yes. The continuing argument downstairs. Once again, the boy listened carefully, hoping his father would change his mind, without his friends having to let slip what they were up to, or, if he didn't, ready to butt into the conversation _himself_.

"No butts! Danny is severely ill and in no way able to accept visitors…."

Uh-oh. Looks like he'd have to jump in after all.

"….Now why don't you take your laptop and—"

He sighed, took a deep breath, and propping himself up with his lower arms, cried "Dad, wait!"

Silence. _Did….did they hear me?_ Danny questioned, breathing heavily from the force used to project his feeble voice. To himself, at least, he seemed loud enough, but given his apparent hearing, the boy couldn't be sure-

"Danny?" His father answered, sounding surprised

A small smile graced his lips as the ailing boy replied, using the same tone as before, "Yeah! Y-yeah…."

"Are you….feeling any better?" the older man asked with anticipation, sending a small pang of pity through Danny's heart.

He knew his father had asked a rhetorical question—they both did, so instead of giving an answer neither wanted to hear, he said instead "D-dad….I….Can you….send Sam and Tucker t-to see me?" A pause, the boy was testing his father's sympathy, before adding meekly "p-please?"

It was the please that did it. Though he wasn't there, Danny was sure his father sighed before addressing his friends. "Alright. Go ahead." He seemed tired when he said that, older, and it occurred to Danny that for the first time in a long time, his father felt….defeated. Not because his son had persuaded him to break he and his spouse's rule, but because, for once he was up against an opponent he didn't know how to defeat, let alone approach.

Knock. Knock. Danny blinked, eyes rolling lazily in the direction of the door on the wall opposite the foot of his bed. "H-hello?" He questioned, voice back to its fragile state.

The door creaked open, and a girl with short black hair tied in a style resembling a half-ponytail poked her head through. "Hi Danny." Sam said, forcing back her shock as she gazed at him. He returned her smile, watching as she, then Tucker entered his room. "Long time no see."

"Tell me about it." He replied, flopping carefully onto his side to better face his two friends. "How've you guys been?"

Sam said nothing, but bit her lip, while Tucker responded, trying to lighten the mood, "compared to you, we're living like kings—OW!" The goth girl, still without a word, kicked him—hard—in the shin, a signal that one shouldn't gloat about their own well-being while another not-so-fortunate was around. Tucker cringed, glaring at Sam through his glasses, but Danny chuckled—though it morphed into another harsh coughing fit—recognizing the African American boy had meant no harm by his comment.

After a few minutes had gone by, Danny finally managed to pull himself together, turning instead to the reason the two in front of him had come to visit. "So…." He started, "W-what is t-this 'emergency' you guys mentioned to my dad?"

"Oh! Right." Sam and Tucker then exchanged glances, before Sam reached over and grabbed a small, rectangular laptop from under her other arm. Motioning for Danny to scoot back, she placed the electronic device on the side of his bed, turned in the boy's direction so he'd be able to see whatever it was the girl was about to show him.

"We saw this last night on tv," Tucker began, referring to the program Sam had fished from her downloads, "and….well…."

"See for yourself." The goth girl concluded, pressing play when the document had opened. Confused, but ever curious, Danny inched forward, eyes fixated on the video now playing on the small screen:

"…_.it has come to our attention, recently, that many people are baffled and inquisitive about the recent disappearance of the ghost boy, Danny Phantom, as are they with the mysterious decline in ghost invasions."_

Well that was….ironic.

"_However, thanks to a lucky cameraman the other day, we now have a possible answer to your questions!"_

"_Do_ they." Danny muttered, before being shushed by Tucker as the person on screen continued to speak.

"This is the best part!" He whispered, pointing as the image changed from a man—the one who had just spoken—to a figure, wearing a black suite with white gloves and collar, a black headband through her long, snowy colored hair, and a look of determination in her narrowed glowing green eyes, flying in an orange tinted sky. The boy gasped, his eyes widening to their full extent. He could tell right away that the one on screen was a girl, and for obvious reasons, she couldn't be Danni, his female clone. In fact, he wondered if she was a clone at all—she _looked_ similar enough, in terms of color coordination, but there was something in her face that told Danny this girl, whomever she was, could not have been another carbon copy. For one thing, the logo on her chest was completely different than his. In place of the letters 'DP' intertwined, Danny was vaguely able to make out a different emblem combined of different….hang on….one letter _did_ resemble a 'P', but the other….no….it definitely didn't look like the letter 'D'….rather….almost like a….

"I need to go!" Danny shouted abruptly, jumping so high in his bed the laptop would surely have been thrown to the ground had Sam reacted quickly and snatched it.

"Go?" She asked him, closing the screen, "go _where_?"

Unaware of the concern behind her words, Danny alleged in a frenzy, "I need to find Jazz! She….I-I mean….she might—She is…." His words were cut short as his hysteria had caused a throbbing pain in his head. Clutching his cranium, Tucker took advantage of Danny's aggrieved silence.

"Hold on," he said slowly, placing a curled hand on his hip, "you aren't actually suggesting _Jazz_ is the—"

The pain subsided for a moment and the raven-haired boy interjected, "I-I'm not sure. B-b-but I need to….to find her….need to…." He swallowed the rest of the sentence when he noticed the expressions on his friends' faces.

"Danny…." Sam began precariously, hugging her laptop to her chest. She made to continue, but something prevented her from doing so.

"Dude, you need to calm down." Tucker interjected, picking up on Sam's inability to press on with the conversation, "this fever's got you acting crazy."

There was a gap in speech, as the African-American boy's words took a moment to register. Once they did, however, Danny frowned, his pale hands clenching together. "_Me_? _Crazy_?" He snapped, a mental barrier breaking, "How could you ever _suggest_ that? _I've_ been around Jazz the most out of the three of us, _I_ was the first to notice she was acting strangely—"

"You were the _only_ one who—"

"—and I'm _also_ the only other human being in this area who's _half-ghost_….." he stopped then, his body sagging further into his mattress as he remembered something. He _was_ half-ghost….but given recent events, the boy wasn't sure if he could even call himself that anymore. He turned his head, groaning slightly, and his glassy blue eyes gazed at the two teenagers in apology. "Guys I…."

A sad smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth. "We know, Danny." She assured him, her eyes watery.

He returned her smile with a simple nod—a bad idea, given the pain—but considering the situation, and his current state, Danny didn't feel like smiling at all. "It's just…."

"What?" Tucker asked.

The boy hung his head. "My powers…..they're _gone_."

Silence. Dead silence. Sam, Tucker; neither of them moved, both too shocked by Danny's startling words.

"G-gone?" Sam repeated, "What do you mean? Y-you've been sick the past three days, there's no way you or anyone—"

"Yeah I….I know." The boy confirmed, eyelids closing. "N-no one's been up h-here but my p-parents and my sister….and I-I….I haven't left my room…."

"Wait" Tucker chimed in, "if that's the case….then _how_ could your ghost powers possibly be gone?"

The boy shrugged. "I d-don't know….but they are." He opened his eyes then, raising his head. "That's why…._that's_ why I need to find Jazz. My powers may be gone….but….but if _she_ has them…." Already in fists, his clammy hands tightened "I just don't want her to have to pay my enemies….for something that wasn't h-her fault." The tension in the air dissolved with his last statement, and after exchanging glances for what seemed like the umpteenth time that day, Sam and Tucker grinned.

"That's just like you, Danny" Tucker marveled, shaking his head, "Always thinking of others before yourself."

Danny blinked, not quite sure what to make of Tucker's remark.

Sam stepped forward, extending an arm. "If you go after Jazz, we won't tell your father….but—"

'_But?'_

"—we're going to come with you."

Inwardly, the boy whacked himself upside the head—to do so literally would have been far more agonizing than it was worth—and rolled his eyes. He should have expected as much.

-------------------------------------

"Do….do you think it' true?"

"Hm?" Jazz cocked her head, studying the blue-haired poltergeist fidgeting nervously beside her. After spending at least ten minutes playing cat-and-mouse, Ember had finally gotten the message across that she truly _did not_ want to fight the female-halfa. Though still on the verge of trust, both girls had decided to draw a temporary truce, and were now seated on the roof of one of Amity Park's larger buildings, only a few blocks away from Casper High.

"What….what he—Tucker—said…." Ember continued awkwardly, staring at her dangling feet. She, like Jazz, was also having a hard time believing she was actually socializing, instead of fighting with her enemy, as her words were etched in uncertainty. However, Jazz suspected it wasn't just their 'friendly' conversation that had her opponent acting on edge, and Ember's next question confirmed these reservations.

"….do you think I'd make a decent rock star?" She looked up, her green eyes, so full of confusion and ambiguity, meeting Jazz's gaze, searching for an answer in the halfa-girl's emerald pupils. Nonetheless, Jazz had no answer to give. Smart as she was, her intellect resided mostly within human limits—she'd only been a ghost for about a week—and what she had learned about the paranormal didn't really apply to Ember's…._problem_. _But I have to say something,_ she told herself, her mind searching for a response, _this could be the chance I need_. Shortly after encountering Ember, Jazz realized that if she could discover what a full-fledged ghost was thinking, maybe find out_ why _they spent their time trying to take over the world, she could devise a more efficient method of dealing with them; one that didn't involve jumping immediately into battle. She knew it would save a great deal of time, for both her and her brother, once….and _if_….he got back on his feet—though she chose to think he would—so for the first time since acquiring her powers, Jazz decide to try something _new_. By new, Jazz meant using one of her many reliable _human_ skills—psychology. Ember certainly seemed in need of it, and it _was_ something Jazz had always been good at.

Thus, after propping her chin with the arm resting upright on her leg, Jazz replied, "Well, Ember….I don't think it really matters what _I_ think."

"Huh? But I—"

The white-haired girl shook her head. "It matters what _you_ think." She noticed a change in expression on the paler girl's face, encouragement for Jazz to continue. " Do _you_ believe you'd make a decent rock star?"

No response. Ember's mouth was open, but no speech came out. Only the sputtering of segments erupted from her chalky throat, sounding something like "Me? I—but—I—that's—I mean—"

She stopped then, cautiously glancing at the female halfa sitting next to her. Seeing Jazz's confused expression, Ember sighed and clasped both hands in her lap, struggling to find an explanation. "I don't know." She said finally, shaking her blue-flamed head, "I mean….at one point, _yes_, of course I would have. I'd be _better_ than decent, even. But," And here her voice lowered, "it's been so long since I've played an instrument—just to _play_, you know—that I….I'd be able to tell the difference between my _real_ talent, and the….the power I got when I….when I became a ghost…." She trailed off on the last word, and an indignant look crossed her face, her green eyes clouding over—signaling her mind had wandered away from reality.

Watching the deceased girl, Jazz couldn't help but feel sorry for her on some level or other. Even if she _was_ supposed to be the enemy. However, mixed with her sympathy was an unusual of awe—the one one receives after completing a puzzle or solving a mystery. Maybe it wasn't entirely true—what her brother….what _most people_ said about ghosts—that they had no feelings, no emotions….that they scoured away for world domination solely because they had no sense of right or wrong. That they were and always would be evil. And while that was true for some ghosts, they were in the minority. _No, _Jazz reasoned, _there has to be another explanation for a typical ghost's behavior_. And, like almost everything else Jazz came across, there was. The reason, she assumed, that poltergeists attempted to take over the world, was because of a sense of unfinished business and emptiness that aroused after they'd died. As a ghost, what else was there to do? Most ghosts in the Ghost Zone were the restless spirits of people who had met an early demise without completing whatever tasks or plans they'd set ahead. Which is why, if the desire was strong enough, when the person's body died, their spirit—a remnant of the one they used to be—was left behind, nothing but the desire for completion to fuel them. _Hence_, Jazz concluded _the numerous otherworldly attacks._ But what if….what if a ghost could find some _other_ way of occupying their time….

"You know," the halfa-girl said after a moment, " if you really want to, maybe you should take some time off….er….taking over the world...and, uh, just _practice_ playing your guitar—just to see if you still can play as well as you did when….when you didn't have your powers. I mean, it's not like you guys do anything _else_ in the—"

Ember's head shot up, and her mind snapped back into focus. Jazz flinched as the other girl sprang to her feet, fiery hair blazing wildly. ""not like we do anything?!"" She barked, the sharp manner in her voice returning, ""_not like we _do _anything_?!" Listen, _dipstick ,_I know I don't have a human half like _you_ do, but that _doesn't_ mean I spend all my time in the Ghost Zone doing _nothing_ except plan my next attack on your world! You have_ no idea _what some ghosts have to go through in order to just survive!" Her body was shaking, and her eyes were burning with hate and repulsion as they glared at a now taken aback Jazz. Eyes that, had Ember still contained the internal structure of a living human being, would most likely have been crying. Though the outburst should have angered her, instead, it made Jazz pity the female apparition even more, and her eyebrows creased, a regretful look forming on her face.

"….Ember, I….I'm sorry" she alleged softly, causing a shocked look to flash across the other teen's face, "I really am." She paused, her gaze shifting up and out, towards the graying sky before them, "but you're wrong. I _do_ know what ghosts have to go through in order to ensure survival…."

Now it was Jazz's turn to reminisce, her thoughts falling on her ailing younger brother. He'd done so much good since becoming a ghost, always putting himself before others. Yet he was always sought after, always harassed—not only by other ghosts but by fellow human beings who believed Danny Phantom to be a menace to society. She shook her head, a few strands of white hair coming loose from her headband. Her brother had been through so much—living a duel identity, having to constantly worry about his numerous enemies….and now….suffering from an unknown illness that left him completely helpless. _Him_, her little brother, and the hero—no matter what people said—of Amity wasn't fair.

"Oh Danny…." Jazz murmured, her face falling as she reflected on her brother's situation.

Ember, still a little irritated at Jazz's assumption, cocked her head, blinking. It was obvious the female halfa was talking to herself, but the name she uttered combined with the amount of melancholy in her voice compelled her to take Jazz up on the matter.

"Danny?" She asked, placing her gloved hand on her hip, "you mean the g….the _other_ ghost kid?"

Jazz turned her head, and smiled sadly at the blue-haired girl. "Yeah," She replied, "….yeah. He's my—" catching herself from revealing any more personal information to her supposed enemy, "—he's the reason I became a ghost in the first place."

The irritation vanished, replaced now by bewilderment and trepidation. "Wait a minute…." She started, waving her free hand in front of her face, "are you telling me you _willingly_ turned yourself into a ghost?"

Jazz nodded, once again staring out at the sky. "Yes, I did. I….I wanted to help him. Make being both ghost _and_ human easier. But…." Her voice grew quiet then, and her smile vanished, "...but now I'm not even sure I can do that anymore." With the conclusion of those words, Jazz's head hung, and her eyes closed.

Maybe it was the reflection of her past, maybe it was something in the white-haired girl's voice….or maybe it was a small spark of humanity Ember thought had vanished long ago. Whatever it was, however, made Ember suddenly extend an arm, reaching for the other girl in attempts to _comfort_ her….

….but an abrupt cold, _familiar_ surge of energy held her back.

"Oh no…." she gasped, whirling around "_…._oh _no_…." Her head twisted in the other girl's direction, but Jazz had already been pulled back to the present by a wispy blue strand spewing from her mouth.

"'Oh no'?" She echoed, shivering at the activation of her ghost sense, "what do you mean by….?"

However, rather than answer Jazz's question, Ember's fiery blue hair began winding around the now panicked teen, engulfing her pale body before it, and the flames ,disappeared entirely. However, prior to her 'vanishing act,' the two ghost girls locked gazes, and in that moment, Jazz swore she saw pure horror shining in Ember's eyes. The _same_ look of fear she'd seen during her battle with Technus.

_I don't understand_, she thought, willing her body to rise into the air, _is there really something out there so terrible that even _ghosts_ are afraid of it? _She shrugged, shaking off the chill that had followed her ghost sense.

There were a lot of things about the paranormal she had yet to understand—her conversation with Ember being proof. However, brooding over whether or not a ghost could still feel fear—now that they were dead—wasn't going to do her much good. Especially when she had more pressing matters to attend to. Sighing, Jazz flew upward, using her ghost sense as a guide to track down the poltergeist that had set it off in the first place.

------------------------------------------

The howling winds, the raging speed, it was all Danny could do to keep from falling off Tucker's scooter as he and his friends sped hurriedly down the road. After carefully devising a plan, the teenagers had successfully managed to elude Danny's father and make it out of the house undetected. Too weak to properly maneuver his own motor scooter, Sam had suggested riding with Tucker, which was where he currently was, hanging on for dear life, as the African American and the Goth girl drove along the streets of Amity park, all three of them searching for Jazz, prime suspect for being the mysterious female halfa they'd seen on Sam's laptop.

He knew his friends were skeptical about his claims—who wouldn't be? He was talking about _Jazz_: his older, overprotective, over _motivated_, sister, who loved nothing more than school, and her straight 'A' average. So why she would _think_ of risking all of that solely become a ghost was unimaginable. Jazz was well aware of the effects _his_ ghost powers had on _his_ grades—making him seem much less intelligent than he actually was. And as much as she loved her brother, at times Danny sometimes wondered if she loved her education even more. Nevertheless, he couldn't deny that the ghost girl, despite the hair and eye difference,_ did_ bear an uncanny resemblance to Jazz...

"Hey Danny," Tucker piped up, noticing the boy's grip around his mid-section had loosened, "are you okay back there?"

Danny looked up, mind back in the present, meeting the glance Tucker had cast over his shoulder "yeah, Tuck, I'm—AGH!" Not only pain this time but a severe dizziness well struck the boy's head, and he cried out sharply, legs beginning to give out as he reached up, on instinct, to grab his throbbing cranium.

Tucker, feeling the lack of Danny's hold around his waist, jumped—alarmed—while Sam, who had been riding next to him, ordered immediately "Tucker, pull over!"

Swerving to the right, the darker skinned boy obliged, scooter coming to a halt just as Danny finally lost balance and toppled from the vehicle onto the ground. His knees scuffed against the concrete below, but it was hardly noticeable compared to the agony now invading his consciousness.

"Danny!" His friends chorused, Tucker bending down next to the boy and Sam rushing from her own scooter over to the two.

"J-just….hold on a-a sec," he said through gritted teeth, trying to pull himself up, "….I-I'm f-fine…."

"No, Danny, you're not," Sam objected, stating the blatantly obvious truth, "you haven't been this entire week." She joined Tucker's position next to her ailing friend, a grave look in her lavender eyes. "This was a mistake, and we need to get you home…._now_."

"Guys….I—"

"Sam's right, Danny," Tucker added "you're in no condition to continue this search. I mean, just _look_ at you. You can't even stand up." He rose to his feet then, ready to re-start his vehicle and take Danny back to Fenton Works. Sam mimicked his movements, but rather than go over to her scooter, she took hold of Danny's left arm, preparing to lift him. As she beckoned to Tucker for assistance, The Fenton boy continued his feeble protesting.

"L-look, I d-didn't ask you to….c-come with me….s-s-so why—"

"You know, if _I _were you, I'd take my friends' advice." A cold, malevolent voice—one that sounded oddly familiar—abruptly cut in "After all, you don't have much _time_ left."

There was a pause, pursued by a low dark snicker, one that sent an icy shiver shooting up Danny's spine. Suddenly shaken, the boy's head followed the direction the laugh was coming from—somewhere from above him—looking for whoever….whatever it was that was _obnoxious_ enough to make such a wild assumption about….

….But what he saw nearly made his heart stop.

Floating approximately ten or so feet in air, was a tall, pale, muscled—male— figure, staring down at the teenagers with glowing crimson eyes. His arms, folded over his chest, were garbed in black and white—similar to Danny's ghost outfit but in a slightly different style—as was the rest of his body. A long, two-toned cape flowed from behind his back, and had he been on the ground, its length would most likely have ended just below his knees. His face, the only visible skin displayed, was chalky, and almost green in color, contrasting with the scruff of a beard decorating his pointed chin, and the white, fire-like hair blazing wildly on the top of his head. He was grinning wickedly at the three below him, his sharp fangs glistening. However, what stood out the most to the raven-haired boy, the one thing above all else that formed a knot in his throat, was the emblem emblazoned on his chest….an emblem that was all too-familiar. Woven in white fabric were two letters; intertwined together to create a logo. A logo combined of the letters 'D' and 'P.' A logo that stood for _Danny Phantom_.

Eyes widening, Danny's jaw dropped, horror creeping into face.

"Hello, _Danny_," his future self alleged, "It's been a while."

---------------------------------------------

**14 pages.** **14 pages!! This chapter is longer than my longest one shot!! But it was necessary, as Danny FINALLY meets up with Dan. Yes, Dan phantom. XD Well, all that's left to write is…..**

**Aw….you'll see!**

**There were a few things I wanted to point out for clarification: When I mentioned that Jack was up against an opponent he didn't know how to beat or approach, I was talking about Danny's illness—he's sick and no one can figure out **_**what **_**it is, or **_**how**_** he got it. Oh….and Jazz's little "ghost analysis monologue? I know it mentions things you all probably know, but let's not forget Jazz is someone who makes a point to **_**analyze **_**things. That's how she operates….and that's also how she learned to master her powers so quickly.**

**Hm….is that everything? I think so. Well, stay tuned for the next chapter!!**


	33. illusive answers

**--Knocks on computer screen—**

**Hello? Hellooooo? Is anyone there? I'm not dead, see? **

**--points at All That Jazz—**

**I wrote a new fanfic chapter! Even after almost a month and a half! **

**Haha. Yeah….sorry it's been so long, but a couple of things have prevented me from getting this out sooner:**

**After the last chapter I wrote, my brain decided it needed a temporary vacation. I mean, that thing was fourteen pages long—and it was ONE chapter! Not a one shot, but a chapter. Yeah….I felt like I needed a break.**

**Since recently being in a production of "Willy Wonka" I was slightly obsessed for a while, and seeing as to how I had an idea for one, I decided to go ahead and write a one-shot for that fandom (original movie) It took MUCH longer than expected, but the end result was well worth it, I think.**

**Two words: WRITER'S BLOCK. I'm beginning to encounter them more and more now that this fic is coming to a close. It's not so much I don't know what's going to happen as to getting there and actually writing it out that's causing my creativity to stump.**

**However, I told myself I was gonna finish this chapter, and I did!!!!!!! Which means finally I'm getting to the climax!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!**

**Anyway, enjoy this chapter, and once again, sorry it took so long!**

Sick though he was, Danny's body began shaking as he stared into the eyes of his older self. Eyes full of malice and murderous intent. Eyes that had plagued his nightmares and haunted his subconscious from the day they last battled. And eyes he'd been quite sure he'd never have to see again.

"What….what are y-you doing here?" He croaked, trying hard to mask his terror with a fierce glare. The older Phantom laughed, amused by the boy's feeble attempt, before leaning forward in mid-air and gesturing towards himself with a gloved hand.

"Surprised?" He asked, well aware it was a rhetorical question, "Don't be. You should have known it would take more than that cursed Fenton Thermos to stop _me_." His words, previously drenched in malicious sarcasm, ended on a harder note; utter loathing flickering momentarily in his now narrowed pupils.

Danny watched the older Phantom, too dead beat and too terrified to pick up on his brief change in emotion. But he _did_ notice what he said. Though his body seemed fixated, the ghost-teen's mind began racing. Take _more _than the Fenton Thermos? What did he mean by _that_? Surely….surely Phantom couldn't be suggesting he actually….no. No, it wasn't possible. The Fenton Thermos was fool-proof; specifically designed for catching and containing ghosts. He knew that—he'd used the thing thousands of times—and there was no way a ghost could _willingly_ free himself once captured; not even _he_ had been able to, in those unfortunate times someone _else_ had been controlling the device. _But, _the boy thought, staring at his future self through a haze of vision, _even if he _did _manage to escape,_ _Clockwork would have—_

"C-Clockwork…." He alleged suddenly, straining his vocal chords in attempts to increase the volume of his voice.

Wearing his previous superior expression, Phantom blinked, before answering the boy with a simple "Hm?"

"What….what about C-clockwork?" Danny reiterated in a trembling tone, "Didn't….d-didn't he try to….when he saw you…. _How_….?"

The older Danny, who had been regarding his younger self with a sort of jesting hilarity, lost his collected air for an instant, and broke out into a fanatical cackle. "You can't be serious." He wheezed, in between snickers, "Do you _honestly_ I'd do something so foolish?"

Danny, unnerved by Phantom's ridiculing, opened his mouth to interject. But the older ghost, laughter having died down, bent forward slightly and shook his head. "Of course you would," he went on, answering the younger boy and correcting his preceding assumption, "You're just a _child_."

A sharp pressure built up in the back of his throat, signaling the start of another coughing fit, but Danny repressed it, fueled by a sudden hatred of the figure floating before him. It didn't matter _how_ great the difference in their power—or age, for that matter—was; Phantom had _no right_ making such accusations about him. For after everything he'd done—of all the trials he'd had to face since acquiring ghost powers, no one could say that Danny Phantom was _just a child_. So many people looked to him as a hero….and those who didn't still acknowledged the exceptional power he possessed. _Even _he _did, at one point_, the raven-haired boy reflected, briefly recalling the final moments of the last time the two of them had dueled. The images were somewhat distorted, which frightened him somewhat, and the voices fragmented, but even so, he could still recall Phantom's near final words—the last words spoken before being defeated by the Ghostly Wail:

_"'That power ….it's not possible….'"_

"Hey, um….Danny?" Tucker whispered, nudging the boy and rousing him from his thoughts.

The ghost-teen turned to face his friend, teeth gritting together to keep from crying out against his protesting muscles. "What….what is it, T-Tuck?"

Trying to remain inconspicuous under the crimson gaze of their opponent, the African-American carefully shifted his position so that he was closer to Danny's ear, before saying, "Uh….I know he's floating right in front of us….but….didn't you leave that jerky older version of yourself back in the future, after you senselessly beat him to a pulp?"

Phantom's jaw muscles tightened; he'd heard Tucker's…._question_….perfectly—ten years of wreaking havoc had trained his ears well—and for a moment, the sudden urge to blow the three teenagers away in a flash of ecto-energy threatened to cloud his mind. But he quickly suppressed it; the completion of his plan far more important than setting the dead in their place. And aside from that, the original reason for Tucker's inquiry dawned on him.

"_What_?" He spat, locking gazes with his younger self and causing him to flinch, "You mean you _haven't _told them?" His eyes then shifted, first to Tucker, who'd been the one to ask the question, then to Sam, who, to his surprise, had remained silent. Both teens looked a shade lighter than usual, not nearly as pale as Danny, but one best associated with the phrase 'looking like they've seen a ghost.' Which ironically, they _had_. And not just any ghost, but one that they _apparently_ thought was lying somewhere back in his own timeline, beaten, broken, and—dare he say it—a thing of the _past_. _But of course,_ he thought, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth,_ I'm not _from_ the past. I'm from the future._

Glancing down once more at the three teenagers, Phantom was pleased to see both Tucker and Sam were now staring hard at Danny, who seemed to have been drawn into silence. While his friends' expressions filled the older ghost with a sick kind of pleasure, their reactions were nowhere near as bad as his younger self, who—for one reason or another— looked as though he were about to be sick.

At a somewhat more contained level than before, Phantom scoffed. "I see. So they really _don't_ know what happened, do they?" He speculated, fangs glistening as he grinned wickedly. "Well, doesn't _this_ make things interesting."

Sam, who had yet to speak, now raised her head: violet eyes darting anxiously between Danny and his evil counterpart. "What….what is he talking about, Danny?" She asked, ringing her hands in a rare display of nervousness, "_what_ didn't you tell us?"

Her tone had been filled with an unusual amount of emotion—almost _vulnerability_—her mind filled with a terrifying sense of confusion. Had the circumstances been different, Danny knew he and Tucker would have cracked some awkward joke at how un-Sam like the Goth had just sounded, and how completely girly she was being about her behavior. But Tucker, _like_ his female friend, was transfixed on the ailing boy, eyes wide with fear and inquisitiveness; anxious to hear the story he was potentially about to tell.

"Go on, Danny," Phantom prodded, waving his gloved hand towards the ghost-child in mock-encouragement, "_tell_ them." His pale face, illuminated by the shadows cast from his fiery hair, twisted into a darker, more sinister expression as he added, "Tell them _everything_."

If he were physically able, Danny would have turned on his heel right there and made a run for it; to escape the presence of his nightmare come reality and the truth he was about to bestow upon his friends. A truth he'd tried so hard to prevent them from learning. One that revealed what could have—and nearly _did_—occur had Clockwork not interfered. Nonetheless, while his thoughts screamed in attempts to get away, Danny's current condition proved his body to be about as mobile as a boulder to an ant, leaving the boy with very little if no choice at all.

Sighing heavily, Danny hung his head, half-hating, half-fearing his complete helplessness under the crimson gaze of his future self. Want to or not, there was no getting out of this. Carefully sitting back, and taking a deep breath to calm his pounding heart, he slowly began to speak. "Do you….do you guys remember when you t-took off your t-time medallions and….and r-returned to your own time? W-well I wasn't exactly r-right behind you…."

----------------------------------------------

_This is taking forever!_ Jazz moaned inwardly, still following her ghost sense as she continued her search for whatever it was that kept setting it off. However, as she soared over the roof tops of Amity Park, the halfa-girl was beginning to think she'd been sent on a wild goose chase. It had been nearly fifteen minutes since her encounter with Ember, and while her ghost sense _was_ appearing more frequently, as well as getting colder, she hadn't been able to locate the reason for its activation. Which not only didn't make sense; it was starting to annoy her. In the week since Jazz had become a ghost, she'd never once had any trouble locating a ghost—especially with her ghost sense going off as frequently as it was. And she'd never known Danny to have any trouble either. But if that was the case, the why couldn't she find this illusive poltergeist? Was it simply because they knew they were being followed, and made precautions to prevent being confronted? Or was the problem….Jazz _herself_?

_Hold on there, Jazz,_ she scolded; shaking her white-topped head, _there's _nothing_ wrong with your ghost sense. It was working perfectly fine earlier so there's no reason for it to be malfunctioning now. _Nevertheless, the halfa-girl slowed her pace to a stop, running the other possible reasons for her current…._situation_….through her head. It was ridiculous, she knew, to even suspect there was a problem with her powers—why would there be? As previously stated, there was nothing wrong with them earlier. _Of course,_ she added mentally, shrugging her black garbed shoulders subtly, _it's not like I actually know what _can_ take away ghost powers, or _if _it's even possible _for_ them to malfunction. _Jazz shook her head a second time, strands of hair freeing themselves from the charcoal colored headband and falling in front of her face.

"Well, problem or not," Jazz said after a moment, "it still doesn't change the fact that I promised myself I'd—"

Her words were halted as a large, blue wisp of smoke floated from her mouth, shocking the ghost-girl by the extreme iciness it left behind in its path. Emerald eyes focused intently, Jazz watched as the frozen strand spewed forward—about six or so inches—before veering off to the left and vanishing. Shivering slightly from the cold still coating her throat, Jazz turned her head in the direction her ghost sense had gone before it disappeared, taking it as a possible hint on where to find this deceptive apparition.

But what she found instead was far more interesting.

About four or so blocks from her current position—or rather, that of the area she was hovering over—a large mass of clouds had begun gathering….almost _spiraling_….above one particular street; slowly rotating around until they vaguely resembled a kind of misshapen cylinder. _That's odd,_ she speculated, studying the bizarre behavior of the clumping water vapor. _It's like they're being pulled by a magnet or…._

She gasped then, noticing something that had previously escaped her attention. When Jazz had first laid eyes on the billowy formation, she was too baffled by its unusual shape to pick up on the color of both the clouds and the sky surrounding them. Yet, becoming aware of them now sparked a new kind of fascination and fear within her. Drifting around in a slow circle, it suddenly occurred to Jazz how unnaturally _dark_ each cloud was. Similar to the gray they turned before the start of a storm, only far more opaque, and framed in a callous black fringe around the edges. As for the sky—though the day _was_ coming to an end—it started out normal enough, all the oranges and purples of a typical end of day atmosphere were still there. However, as it approached the rotating aerial formation ahead, the colors dulled dramatically, and spanned out until, once they reached the airborne structure, lost all vibrancy and became entirely colorless; a damp, foreboding gray color that upon first—or even second—glance would give cause for alarm.

Maybe it was her brains, maybe it was her instinct….or maybe it was her growing _impatience_ driving her. Whatever the reason, somehow Jazz put what she assumed was two and two together, narrowed her gaze and sped off in the direction of the ominous weather. If she had any chance at catching this ghost—much less _finding_ them—then flying head on into the aberrant and mysterious was her best bet.


End file.
